There was a big girls' boarding-school, and two small, but well-patronized hotels. The proprietors of these each owned a farm; but they told Hiram that it was necessary for them to buy much of their table vegetables from city produce men, as the neighboring farmers did not grow much. In talking with one storekeeper Hiram mentioned the fact that he was going to look at the Atterson place with a view to farming it for its new owner. When he walked out of the store he found himself accosted by a lean, snaky-looking man who had stood within the store the moment before. “What's this widder woman goin' to do with the farm old Jeptha left her?” inquired the man, looking at Hiram slyly. “We don't know yet, sir, what we shall do with it,” the young fellow replied. “You her son?” “No. I may work for her--can't tell till I've looked at the place.” “It ain't much to look at,” said the man, quickly. “I come near buying it once, though. In fact--” He hesitated, still eyeing Hiram sideways. The boy waited for him to speak again. He did not wish to be impolite; but he did not like the man's appearance. “What do y' reckon this Mis' Atterson would sell for?” finally demanded the man. “She has been advised not to sell--at present.” “Who by?” “Mr. Strickland, the lawyer.” “Humph! Mebbe I'd buy it--and give her a good price for it--right now.” “What do you consider a good price?” asked Hiram, quietly. “Twelve hundred dollars,” said the man. “I will tell her. But I do not think she would sell for that price--nothing like it, in fact.” “Well, mebbe she'll feel different when she comes to think it over. No use for a woman trying to run a farm. And if she has to pay for everything to be done, she'll be in a hole at the end of the season. I guess she ain't thought of that?” “It wouldn't be my place to point it out to her,” returned Hiram, “coolly, if it were so, and I wanted to work for her.” “Humph! Mebbe not. Well, my name's Pepper. Mebbe I'll be out to see her some day,” he said, and turned away. “He's one of the people who will discourage Mrs. Atterson,” thought Hiram. “And he has an axe to grind. If I decide to take the job of making this farm pay, I'm going to have the agreement in black and white with Mrs. Atterson; for there will be a raft of Job's comforters, perhaps when we get settled on the place.” It was late in the afternoon before Hiram was ready to start for the farm itself. He had made some enquiries, and had decided to stop at a neighbor's for overnight, instead of going to the house where a lone woman had been left in charge by Mrs. Atterson. The Pollocks had been recommended to Hiram, and by leaving the road within half a mile of the Atterson farm, and cutting across the fields, he came into the dooryard of the Pollock place. A well-grown boy, not much older than himself, was splitting some chunks at the woodpile. He stopped work to gaze at the visitor with much curiosity.