"No; he ain't done that, and he won't do it. That's what I tells him. If he wants it, let him make me a good offer; but he won't do that. He kind o' circles around like a pigeon before he lights, and talks about what I paid for it, and a hundred per cent. advance, and all that. I give a sight for that land he don't know nothin' about--years of hard work on the mountain-side, sweatin' o' days, and layin' out in the cold at nights, lookin' up at the stars and wonderin' how I was to git along--studin' of folks jest as I studied cattle. That's what I paid for that land. He wants me to set him a price, and I won't do that--he might give it." He looked shrewdly at Keith. "Ain't I right?" "I think so." "He wants me to let him have control of it; but I ain't a-goin' to do that neither." "That's certainly right," said Keith, heartily. "I tell him I'm a-goin' to hold to that for Phrony. Phrony says she wants me to sell it to him, too. But women-folks don't know about business." Keith wondered what effect this piece of information had on Wickersham, and also what further design the old squire had in mind. "I think it's about time to do something with that land. If all he says is true,--not about _my_ land (he makes out as _my_ land is situate too far away ever to be much account--fact is, he don't allow I've got any land; he says it's all his anyway), but about other lands--everybody else's land but mine,--it might be a good time to look around. I know as my land is the best land up here. I holds the key to the situation. That's what we used to call it durin' the war. "Well, there ain't but three ways to git to them coal-lands back up yonder in the Gap: one's by way of heaven, and I 'lows there ain't many land-speculators goin' by that way; the other is through hell, a way they'll know more about hereafter; and the third's through my land." Keith laughed and waited. "He seems to be hangin' around Phrony pretty considerable?" Keith caught the gleam in the old fellow's deep eye, and looked away. "I can't make it out. Phrony she likes him." Keith fastened his gaze on something out of the window. "I don't know him," pursued the squire; "But I don't think--he'd suit Phrony. His ways ain't like ours, and--." He lapsed into reflection, and Keith, with his eyes still fastened on something outside the window, sighed to think of the old man's innocence. That he should imagine that Wickersham had any serious idea of marrying the granddaughter of a backwoods magistrate! The old squire broke the silence. "You don't suppose he could be hankerin' after Phrony for her property, do you?" "No, I do not," said Keith, positively, relieved that at last a question was put which he could answer directly.