“I know Andy,” said Uncle William. “Set down, sir.” They sat down and looked at each other. “I was going through—” said the man, “up the Lakes and I thought I’d stop off and look around—It’s pleasant country about here.” “Yes, it’s pleasant,” said Uncle William. “Not much business doing, I suppose,” said the man. “Fishing,” said Uncle William, “—mostly.” “There’s some kind of building going on, I see—further up.” He moved the round hand. “That’s my friend—Benjamin Bodet,” said Uncle William. His head gave a little lift. “He’s going to have nineteen rooms—not countin’ the gal’ry.” He laid his hand affectionately on the blueprint spread on the table beside him. The man’s eyes narrowed. “I see—Seems to be quite a house,” he said affably, “I was talking with the contractor this morning—a man by the name of Manning—a very intelligent man,” he added kindly. “His name’s Manning,” assented Uncle William. The man’s eye strayed to the window. “Your friend must have considerable land with his place—I should think?” He spoke casually. Uncle William sat up a little. “He’s got enough to set his house on,” he said dryly. The man’s eyes held no rebuff. They dwelt on Uncle William kindly. “I am interested in the region—” he admitted, “I might buy a little—a small piece—if I found something I liked.” Uncle William looked him over. “I don’t believe you will,” he said, “—not anything to suit you.... I’ve bought most of it myself,” he added. The stranger looked at him—and then out of the window. “You don’t own all of it—?” He gave a little wave of the round hand at the moor and sky and rocks. Uncle William nodded, with a pleased smile. “I bought it all—fo’-five years ago,” he said. The man’s mouth was very mild. “You bought it for investment, I suppose? You put money into it—” “Well,” said Uncle William, “suthin’ like that, perhaps. I put in all I could scrape up. Some I had—and some I just wished I’d had.” “I see—? What would you take for it?—How much did you say you owned?” He bent toward the window. “‘Bout a mile,” said Uncle William. The head withdrew itself. “A mile—! You hoped it would rise, I suppose?” “Well—I was more afraid someone ’d be coming along and setting on it,” said Uncle William. “You could sell the whole?” Uncle William shook his head. “I shouldn’t care—so much—for a part of it,” said the man thoughtfully, “But I might make you an offer—” “I wouldn’t advise you to,” said Uncle William, “I might just as well tell ye, Mr. Carter—there ain’t money enough in this country—nor any other—to buy that land!” Uncle William sat up. The other man shook his head. “Land values are skittish things,” he said. “It’s good judgment to look ahead a little.” “That’s where I’m lookin’,” said Uncle William. “This Bodet—” said the other smoothly, “whom did he buy of?” Uncle William smiled. “I give him his piece—He’s a friend of mine.” “I see.” The man got to his feet, adjusting his weight nicely.