Then Mr. Prunty, in a subdued and sort of ministerial voice, explained to Pa that he was getting along in years, and that Pa wasn't long--that is, that Pa was getting along in years, too--and both parties would, no doubt, be better satisfied if their interests were separated. Therefore he had decided to withdraw his capital from the business, and place it in some other enterprise which would give his son a life work along lines laid out in his education and training. He didn't want to sell his stock to the Universal Electric Company as he had a chance to do (Pa started fiercely here, for he was afraid of the Universal Electric); although the old agreement by which neither party was to sell out to a competitor was probably no longer binding; and so they had come as man to man to talk adjustment. "But," says Pa, "this takes me by surprise. I don't quite see my way clear to taking on such a load as carrying all the stock would be. Mid-Continent stock is valuable." They exchanged glances again, as much as to say that Pa was evidently anxious to sell rather than buy, and was crying the stock up accordingly, so as to get as much money as he could for me before he died. "We may not be so grasping as you think," said Mr. Prunty; and then nothing was said for quite a while. Pa was looking awfully sick, and Mr. Prunty was just exuding love and kindness and magnanimity from every pore. "You had some proposition thought out," interrogated Pa, feeling anxiously for his own pulse, "or you wouldn't have come. What is it, Prunty?" "Well," answered Mr. Prunty, gazing piercingly at Pa, as if to ask if such a cadaverous person _could_ possibly take on the sole control of the Mid-Continent even if he had the money--"well, we had thought of it a little, that's a fact. We thought we'd make you an offer to buy or sell--" "Hurrah for Billy!" my heart shouted. For this was just what he said would happen. But, instead of hurrahing, I came to the front and gave Pa a powder. It was mostly quinine, and was dreadfully bitter. "To buy or sell," went on Mr. Prunty, "at a price to be named by us. If it's a reasonable figure, take our stock and give us our money. If it's too high, why, sell us yours. That's fair, ain't it?" Pa lay back and looked green and groaned. He was doing it nobly. "What is fair in some circumstances," he moaned, "is extortion in others; and I--er--yes, I suppose it would be called fair. What's your give-or-take price, Prunty?" "We are willing," said Mr. Prunty, "to give or take seventy-five for the stock." Pa was so still that I had to rouse him, and Mr. Prunty repeated his offer. "I--I'm getting a little forgetful," said Pa, "and I'd like to have you put it in writing, so I can consider it, and be sure I have it right, you know."