There was, however, another reason that appealed even more strongly to the squire why he should cultivate Mr. Carleton, and that was a hint the squire had gained that his new acquaintance might prove profitable to him. “Squire Brackett,” said Mr. Carleton, seated for the evening on the squire’s front porch, “that’s a pretty little island just below here, close to shore, between here and where those four boys are camping. Do you know, I’d like to own that. I have an idea a man could throw out a neat, rustic bridge from shore, just big enough to take a horse and carriage across, build a cottage out there, and have the most beautiful place about here.” “Well, why don’t you buy it?” replied the squire. “It would, indeed, be a rare cottage site—prettiest spot around here, I say.” “I think perhaps I will,” said Mr. Carleton; “that is, if it is for sale. Do you know anything about that?” “Why,” answered the squire, “I guess I come about as near as anybody to owning it. You see, I hold a mortgage on it.” “How much do you value it at?” asked Mr. Carleton. “Why, let me see,” said the squire; “about twenty-five hundred dollars, I should say.” “Cheap enough!” exclaimed Mr. Carleton. “I’ll just write up to my lawyers and see how some investments I have are turning-out. I think we can make a trade later on.” He said it as though it was a trifling matter, and the squire, who had named an exorbitant figure, was sorry he had not put it higher. He also had neglected to explain that his hold on the land was of the slightest, consisting, as it did, of a mortgage of eight hundred dollars against Billy Cook, the owner, who had paid off all but two hundred dollars of the incumbrance. However, he had no doubt he could easily buy it of Billy Cook—indeed, he had had it offered to him for only four hundred dollars above the entire mortgage the year before. “You ought to have a good boat to cruise around here with,” said the squire. “You’re fond of sailing, I see. Reckon you know how to handle a boat pretty well yourself.” The squire knew he hadn’t any boat to sell that would suit Mr. Carleton, calling to mind his son’s letter from him about the _Viking_; but he had a purpose in suggesting the buying of one. He considered that if Mr. Carleton should make such a purchase, and become fascinated with the sailing about Southport, he would be more likely to want the land to build a cottage on. “Yes, I am very fond of sailing,” responded Mr. Carleton, “but I haven’t got so far as to think about buying a boat just yet.” “Oh, ho! you haven’t, eh?” said the squire to himself. “Reckon I know something about that.” The squire was vastly tickled. Here was a position that just suited his crafty nature. It didn’t signify anything, to be sure, Mr. Carleton’s dissembling,—probably that he might get a better bargain by keeping quiet and not seeming anxious to buy,—but it pleased the squire to have this little advantage in the situation.