"Well, yes. Fact is, I think I c'n buy the farm this fall, if you'll give me a reasonable show." "Um--m! What do you call a reasonable show?" "Well, say a quarter down and three years' time." Butler looked at the huge stacks of wheat, which filled the yard, over which the chickens were fluttering and crawling, catching grasshoppers, and out of which the crickets were singing innumerably. He smiled in a peculiar way as he said, "Oh, I won't be hard on yeh. But what did you expect to pay f'r the place?" "Why, about what you offered it for before, two thousand five hundred, or possibly three thousand dollars," he added quickly, as he saw the owner shake his head. "This farm is worth five thousand and five hundred dollars," said Butler, in a careless and decided voice. "What!" almost shrieked the astounded Haskins. "What's that? Five thousand? Why, that's double what you offered it for three years ago." "Of course, and it's worth it. It was all run down then; now it's in good shape. You've laid out fifteen hundred dollars in improvements, according to your own story." "But you had nothin' t' do about that. It's my work an' my money." "You bet it was; but it's my land." "But what's to pay me for all my--" "Ain't you had the use of 'em?" replied Butler, smiling calmly into his face. Haskins was like a man struck on the head with a sandbag; he couldn't think; he stammered as he tried to say: "But--I never'd git the use--You'd rob me! More'n that: you agreed--you promised that I could buy or rent at the end of three years at--" "That's all right. But I didn't say I'd let you carry off the improvements, nor that I'd go on renting the farm at two-fifty. The land is doubled in value, it don't matter how; it don't enter into the question; an' now you can pay me five hundred dollars a year rent, or take it on your own terms at fifty-five hundred, or--git out." He was turning away when Haskins, the sweat pouring from his face, fronted him, saying again: "But you've done nothing to make it so. You hain't added a cent. I put it all there myself, expectin' to buy. I worked an' sweat to improve it. I was workin' for myself an' babes--" "Well, why didn't you buy when I offered to sell? What y' kickin' about?" "I'm kickin' about payin' you twice f'r my own things,--my own fences, my own kitchen, my own garden." Butler laughed. "You're too green t' eat, young feller. Your improvements! The law will sing another tune." "But I trusted your word." "Never trust anybody, my friend. Besides, I didn't promise not to do this thing. Why, man, don't look at me like that. Don't take me for a thief. It's the law. The reg'lar thing. Everybody does it." "I don't care if they do. It's stealin' jest the same. You take three thousand dollars of my money--the work o' my hands and my wife's." He broke down at this point. He was not a strong man mentally. He could face hardship, ceaseless toil, but he could not face the cold and sneering face of Butler.