"Will a quarter be enough?" interrupted the other gray man, looking down into the troubled face with keen, kindly, gray eyes, which seemed strangely familiar to the child. "Now, Campbell!" expostulated the tall, nervous man. "They come here in swarms some days. You wouldn't be so ready with your cash if you had to deal with the number we do." Without reply, the man called Campbell drew a silver coin from his pocket and extended it toward trembling Peace, but she shook her head, gulping out, "It will take heaps more than that. Old Skinflint has got the _mordige_ on our farm and won't give it up. I want money enough to buy it back, so's we can still go on living there." "Oh!" shouted the sharp-voiced man, while Mr. Campbell pocketed his silver again. "So you thought you would come here to get the money, did you?" "Mr. Hardman said you let people borrow money from you," whispered Peace miserably, wishing she had never left her seat in the carriage. "He told me that when I poisoned half our hens, but Mrs. Grinnell said you didn't bother with such little things; and anyway, I have bought eight new ones already, so we don't need hens so much as we do that _mordige_. Is your name Mr. Swift?" "No, I am the other fellow--Smart." "Hm, I thought it would be like that." "Like what?" "Why, that your names wouldn't fit. I told Mrs. Grinnell I bet Mr. Smart would be stupider than a stump and Mr. Swift would be slower than slow. Is that bald-headed man Mr. Swift?" For an instant the two men in the corner stared at her in sheer amazement, and then both burst into a great roar of laughter, which brought the whole office force to their feet. "Say, Swift, come meet this young mortgage raiser," called the nervous partner. "If you ever get conceited, just interview a child." The bald-headed man rose ponderously and joined the group, studying every feature of the children, as he demanded, in his most business-like tone, "What is your name?" "Peace Greenfield." "Where do you live?" "Almost at Parker." "Almost?" "Well, we have a farm and Parker isn't big enough to hold farms. It's a nice place, though." "How did you get here?" "Mrs. Grinnell brought us in her wagon." "Who is she?" "The lady what lives on the farm right back of ours." "Did she tell you to come and see us?" "Oh, no! She said not to, but she doesn't know anything about our _mordige_, so while she was in the store we hustled over after the money." "Who did send you?" "Why, nobody. We came all by ourselves." "Hm, I thought so. Is this _mordige_ money to buy candy and dolls with?" "No, it ain't!" snapped Peace, thinking he was trying to tease her. "It's to keep old Skinflint from taking our farm away, so that we will have to live around at different places." "Where are your father and mother?" "The angels have got 'em." "Oh! Then you are orphans. Who takes care of you?" "We all of us take care of ourselves, but Gail is the play mother." "How many are there in your family?"