“Better ’n where the sheriff ’u’d have me livin’,” says he. “’Tain’t so much jail,” he says, “but they might set me to some job that would bust me down. I hain’t robust. There hain’t many jobs of work I’ve got health to undertake.” “You and your sister owns a p-piece of land across the river from t-t-town,” says Mark. “Calc’late so. Why?” “We want to buy it.” “Huh! How much?” “How much you want?” “What’s my sister say?” “She l-leaves it to you.” “Um!... That there’s a mighty fine piece of land.” “For hogs to root on,” says Mark. “We’re mighty fond of that land. It’s been in the family a long time.” “N-never earned nothin’ for you?” “Some.” “What you askin’?” “I druther you made an offer.” “Three hunderd d-d-dollars,” says Mark. “Shucks!” says George. “More’n it’s worth by half,” says Mark. “Gimme five hunderd and it’s yourn,” says George. “Give you f-f-four hunderd and fix it up for you about that hog so’s you kin come back and live to home.” “Kin you?” “To be sure.” “Gimme the money.” “Whoa!” says Mark. “We’ve got to have deeds and things b-before you git all the money. But we f-f-fetched along an option. All you got to do is sign that, and we give you t-t-twenty-five dollars down. If we don’t g-give you the rest in thirty days you kin keep the twenty-five.” “I dunno,” says George. “It’s b-business,” says Mark. He pulled out his paper and a fountain-pen and stuck them under George’s nose, with twenty-five dollars in bills, and says, “Sign r-right there.” “I dunno,” says George again, but his eyes was on the twenty-five perty sharp, and ’fore he knew it he was reaching for the pen and in another minute his name was all hitched to the paper. Mark handed over the money. “Now to git a w-witness,” says Mark. “Witness? What for a witness?” “Jest to write his name alongside of yourn. It’s legal.” “I hain’t havin’ much to do with legal things lately,” says George. “No harm in this,” says Mark. “We guarantee there hain’t.” “I hain’t got no witness,” says George; and that very minute came our whistle from the place where Binney and Tallow were hiding. CHAPTER XVII When that whistle sounded I wasn’t startled particular and I wasn’t much surprised. I just says to myself, “Here she comes,” meaning trouble. I looked at Mark, and maybe you won’t believe me, but he actually looked tickled. Like you would be if you got good news. “Well?” says I. “See what it is,” says he. “I know,” says I; “it’s the feller with the vest. Come on.” George Piggins looked some put out, and sort of startled-like and flabbergasted. Things was happening too rapid to make George happy. He wasn’t what you’d call _quick_ at any time, and right now he was about seven minutes behind events without any chance of ever catching up. The last I see of him for a spell consisted mainly of open mouth, for Mark and I made a jump toward the shore.