"Made it? Why, if I set foot on the tip edge of that land I'd have every lean hound in the pack snapping at my heels. As for that young rascal, he'd knock me down if I so much as scented the matter." He rapped his pipe sharply on the wood of his chair and a little pile of ashes settled upon the floor. With a laugh, the other waved his hand in protest. "So you prefer to make the proposition by proxy. My dear sir--I'm not a rubber ball." "Oh, he won't hurt you. It would spoil the sport to punch anybody's head but mine, you know. Come, now, isn't it a fair offer I'm making?" "It appears so, certainly--and I really do not see why he should wish to hold the place. It isn't worth much, I fancy, to anybody but the owner of the Hall, and with the three thousand clear he could probably get a much better one at a little distance--with the additional value of putting a few square miles between himself and you--whom, I may presume, he doesn't love." "Oh, you may presume he hates me if you'll only work it," snorted Fletcher. "Go over thar boldly--no slinking, mind you--to-morrow morning, and talk them into reason. Lord, man, you ought to be able to do it--don't you know Greek?" Carraway nodded. "Not that it ever availed me much in an argument," he confessed frankly. "It's a good thing to stop a mouth with, anyway. Thar's many and many a time, I tell you, I've lost a bargain for the lack of a few rags of Latin or Greek. Drag it in; stuff it down 'em; gag thar mouths--it's better than all the swearing under heaven. Why, taking the Lord's name in vain ain't nothing to a line of poetry spurted of a sudden in one of them dead-and-gone languages. It's been done at me, suh, and I know how it works--that's why I've put the boy upstairs on 'em from the start. 'Tain't much matter whether he goes far in his own tongue or not, that's what I said, but dose him well with something his neighbours haven't learnt." He rose with a lurch, laid his pipe on the mantel, and drew out his big silver watch. "Great Jehosaphat! it's eleven and after," he exclaimed. "Well, it's time for us to turn in, I reckon, and dream of breakfast. If you'll hold the lamp while I bolt up, I'll show you to your room." Carraway picked up the lamp, and, cautiously following his host into the darkened hall, waited until he had fastened the night-chains and shot the heavy bolts. "If you want a drink of water thar's a bucket in the porch," said Fletcher, as he opened the back door and reached out into the moonlight. "Wait thar a second and I'll hand you the dipper." He stepped out upon the porch, and a moment later Carraway heard a heavy stumble followed by a muttered oath. "Why, blast the varmints! I've upset the boy's cage of white mice and they're skedaddling about my legs. Here! hold the lamp, will you--I'm squashing a couple of 'em under each of my hands."