“No, sir.” Mr. Gwynne's voice had a little ring in it. “I consider it fairer to Mr. Martin.” “Don't see as how he has much claim on you,” replied Mr. Sleighter. “But that's your own business. Say, there he comes now. Look here, my offer is open until six o'clock. After that it's a new deal. Take it or leave it. I will be at your store.” “Very well,” said Mr. Gwynne stiffly. Mr. Sleighter was distinctly annoyed and disappointed. A few minutes' longer pressure, he was convinced, would have practically closed a deal which would have netted him a considerable profit. “Durn old fool,” he muttered to himself as he passed out of the room. In the hallway Mrs. Gwynne's kindly welcome halted him. She greeted him as she would a friend. Would he not sit down for a few moments. No, he was busy. Mr. Sleighter was quite determined to get away from her presence. “The children were delighted with your description of your western home,” she said. “The free life, the beautiful hills, the mountains in the distance--it must indeed be a lovely country.” Mr. Sleighter was taken off his guard. “Yes, ma'am, that's lovely country all right. They'd like it fine out there, and healthy too. It would make a man of that little kid of yours. He looks a little on the weak side to me. A few months in the open and you wouldn't know him. The girls too--” “Come in here and sit down, won't you, Mr. Sleighter?” said Mrs. Gwynne. Mr. Sleighter reluctantly passed into the room and sat down. He knew he was taking a risk. However, his offer was already made and the deal he believed would be closed in the store by six o'clock. “I suppose the land is all taken up out there?” said Mrs. Gwynne. “Oh, yes, mostly, unless away back. Folks are comin' in all the time, but there's still lots of cheap land around.” “Cheap land, is there?” inquired Mrs. Gwynne with a certain eagerness in her voice. “Indeed I should have thought that that beautiful land would be very dear.” “Why, bless your heart, no. I know good land going for six--seven--eight--ten dollars an acre. Ten dollars is high for good farm lands; for cattle runs four dollars is good. No, there's lots of good land lying around out of doors there. If these people around here could get their heads up long enough from grubbing in the muck they wouldn't stay here over night. They'd be hittin' the trail for the west, you bet.”