“Why, Mrs. Atterson!” exclaimed the real estate man, cheerfully, “as property is selling in this locality now, sixteen hundred dollars is a mighty good offer for your farm. You ask anybody. Why, Uncle Jeptha knew it was; otherwise he wouldn't have given me the option, for he didn't believe I'd come up with the price. He knew it was a high offer.” “And if it's worth so much to you, why isn't it worth more to Mrs. Atterson to keep?” demanded Hiram, sharply. “Ah! that's my secret--why I want it,” said Pepper, nodding. “Leave that to me. If I get bit by buying it, I shall have to suffer for my lack of wisdom.” “You ain't bought it yet--you Pepper,” snapped Mrs. Atterson. “But I'm going to buy it, ma'am,” replied he, rather viciously, as he stood up, ready to depart. “I shall expect to hear from you no later than Monday.” “I won't sell it!” “You'll have to. If you refuse to sign I'll go to the Chancery Court. I'll make you.” “Well. Mebbe you will. But I don't know. I never was made to do anything yet. By no man named Pepper--you can take that home with you,” she flung after him as he walked out and climbed into the buggy. But whereas Mrs. Atterson showed anger, Hiram went back to work in the field with a much deeper feeling racking his mind. If the option was all right--and of course it must be--this would settle their occupancy of the farm. Of course he could not hold Mrs. Atterson to her contract. She could not help the situation that had now arisen. His Spring's work had gone for nothing. Sixteen hundred dollars, even in cash, would not be any great sum for the old lady. And she had burdened herself with the support of Sister--and with Old Lem Camp, too! “Surely, I can't be a burden on her. I'll have to hustle around and find another job. I wonder if Mr. Bronson would take me on now?” But he knew that the Westerner already had a man who suited him, since Hiram had refused the chance Bronson offered. And, then, Lettie had shown that she felt he had not appreciated their offer. Perhaps her father felt the same way. Besides, Hiram had a secret wish not to put himself under obligation to the Bronsons. This feeling may have sprung from a foolish source; nevertheless it was strong with the young farmer. It looked very much to him as though this sudden turn of circumstances was “a facer”. If Mrs. Atterson had to sell the farm he was likely to be thrown on his own resources again. For his own selfish sake Hiram was worried, too. After all, he would be unable to “make good” and to show people that he could make the old, run-down farm pay a profit to its owner. But Hiram Strong couldn't believe it. The more he milled over the thing in his mind, the less he understood why Uncle Jeptha, who was of acute mind right up to the hour of his death, so all the neighbors said, should have neglected to speak about the option he had given Pepper on the farm.