"No--o--o," said Philip, after a moment of thought, "I can't say that he did. We rode out there on horseback, stopped at the edge of some wooded ground, and he said, 'Did you ever see finer walnut land than that?' Those were his very words--I'll swear to them--the old scoundrel!" "Quite likely, but did he say that those trees--that land--was his?" "No; not in so many words, but he certainly gave me that impression." "With what exact words?" Again Philip searched his memory, but was compelled to reply:-- "With no words that I can recall. He talked rapturously about the beauty of a lot of walnut trees, from the money point of view." "But didn't say, in any way, that they belonged to him?" "Confound him, no! But he handed me a deed--" "That's no evidence, unless it was Taggess's deed he showed you, which evidently it wasn't. Well, Mr. Somerton, you've got no case. Morally 'twas a swindle--not a new one, either. He wouldn't have tried it on you if Caleb hadn't been away; for Caleb knows the lay and condition of every tract of land in this county--just as you'll know when you've been here long enough. You've bought forty acres that won't bring you anything but taxes, unless you can find some use for walnut stumps--and they're harder to get out than any other kind but oak, unless some day the land-owners along the creek combine to put up a levee that'll prevent overflow, so that the land can be farmed, but even then the stumps will be a nuisance. Hope you got it cheap." "Five dollars an acre," Philip growled. "Cash?" "No; trade." "Trade, eh? Well, that's not so bad, though it's bad enough." The old man's eyes twinkled, for what man of affairs is there who does not enjoy the details of a smart trade--at some other man's expense? Philip noticed the clerk's amused expression and frowned; the clerk quickly continued, "Let me give you some professional advice--no charge for it. Keep entirely quiet about this affair; you may be sure that Weefer won't talk until you do. If the story gets out, you'll never hear the end of it, and 'twon't do your reputation as a business man any good. We don't publish records of transfers in this county, and of course I won't mention it, and I'll see that my son doesn't either; he's the only other man who has access to the books." "Thank you very much, Squire. You may count on my vote and influence if you're renominated." "Much obliged. Whew! Five dollars an acre for a lot of walnut stumps!" "Five dollars an acre, and a silk dress for Mrs. Weefer's waiver of dower-right," said Philip, so humiliated that he wished to make his confession complete. "What? Well, Weefer won't talk, but whether he can harness his wife's tongue when she's ready to show off that silk dress is another matter." Philip started to go, and the clerk made haste to hide his face behind the deed, and silently chuckle himself towards a fit of apoplexy. "You're absolutely sure that I've no way out of it?" Philip said, pausing for an instant.