Folks had bought lots to build houses on, and there had been some houses built besides those Atkins & Phillips were working on, and it looked as if there would be bad times. The new factory wouldn’t ever be built and all the new people wouldn’t move in, and whatever would become of those houses? Nobody would live in them, and they would be pretty close to a dead loss. Everybody felt pretty blue, I can tell you, in spite of their saving the money, they would have paid to Kinderhook.... And that’s how things stood the next day when Mr. Sommers went up to Atkins & Phillips’s shop. Catty was there alone when Mr. Sommers and I stepped in, and they shook hands. “The patents are fixed up all right,” says Mr. Sommers. “Where’s your father? Does he know anything about it yet?” “He doesn’t know a thing, and I don’t know much,” says Catty, with a grin. “You know I haven’t any idee at all what you got in mind.” “Well, call in your father, and we’ll have a little talk,” says Mr. Sommers. Mr. Atkins came in and was introduced. He looked kind of surprised, and a lot more so when Mr. Sommers unwrapped the little toy-table Catty’s father had whittled out. “I understand you made this,” says he. “Whittled her out,” says Mr. Atkins. “Consider it worth anything?” “Never figgered it so. Made it for fun.” “Sell it to me for five dollars?” Mr. Atkins opened up his eyes. “Sure!” says he. “With all your rights in it?” “Sure! Why not? Nothin’ but a kind of a sort of a toy. Whittled it out, I tell you.” “I’m in the furniture business,” says Mr. Sommers. “Pleased to hear it,” says Mr. Atkins, as polite as pie. “So you’d sell this for five dollars, eh?” “Didn’t cost me five cents to make.” “How about you, Catty? Would you sell it for five dollars?” “No, sir.” “How much would you sell it for?” “I hain’t got no idee. I calculate I’d ask you what it was really worth, and then I’d sell it for that.” “You’d take my word for it?” “Yes, sir.” “Why?” “I dunno, Mr. Sommers, but I would. You kin tell. You kin always tell.” “If you can,” says Mr. Sommers, “you have a gift that is worth a great deal of money.... But you’re right about one thing; you shouldn’t sell for five dollars.” “I’ll be blowed!” says Mr. Atkins. “And you’d be right if you said you wouldn’t sell at all.” “I’ll be blowed ag’in!” says Mr. Atkins. “Would you like to listen to a proposition from me, Mr. Atkins?” “I’d enjoy it. I kind of like to hear you talk.” “This table is very ingenious. There isn’t a folding-table half as good in the country. That game you invented for the boys is a daisy. Four or five of those other things you whittled out are practical and would appeal to the public. If they were to be made of a regular size, instead of as toys, there should be a great deal of money in them.” “I’d be willin’ to git some of it out, says Mr. Atkins.