Mr. Bubble, rotating his thumbs slowly upon each other, considered that money in profound silence. The possessor of so much loose cash was a gentleman, a man to be respected. "With pleasure," said Mr. Bubble. "I don't myself like to have so much money about me, and I'd advise you, as soon as convenient, to take it up to Millford, where I do my banking. In the meantime, I don't blame you, Mr. Wallingford, for not wanting to carry this much money about with you, nor for hesitating to put it in Jim Ranger's old tin safe." "Thank you," said Wallingford. "I feel very much relieved." Mr. Bubble drew paper and pen toward him. "I'll write you a receipt," he offered. "Not at all; not at all," protested Wallingford, having gaged Mr. Bubble very accurately. "Between gentlemen such matters are entirely superfluous. By the way, Mr. Bubble, I see you have a large swamp on your land. Do you intend to let it lie useless for ever?" "What else can I do with it?" demanded Mr. Bubble, wondering. That swamp had always been there. Naturally, it would always be there. "You can't do very much with it," admitted Wallingford. "However, it is barely possible that I might see a way to utilize it, if the price were reasonable enough. What would you take for it?" This was an entirely different matter. Mr. Bubble pursed up his lips. "Well, I don't know. The land surrounding it is worth two hundred dollars an acre." Wallingford grinned, but only internally. He knew this to be a highly exaggerated estimate, but he let it pass without comment. "No doubt," he agreed; "but your swamp is worth exactly nothing per square mile; in fact, worth less than nothing. It is only a breeding-place of mosquitoes and malaria. How many acres does it cover?" "About forty." "I suppose ten dollars an acre would buy it?" "By no means," protested Mr. Bubble. "I wouldn't have a right of way split through my farm for four hundred dollars. Couldn't think of it." It was Wallingford's turn to be silent. "Tell you what I'll do," he finally began. "I think of settling down in Blakeville. I like the town from what I've seen of it, and I may make some important investments here." Mr. Bubble nodded his head gravely. A man who carried over eight thousand dollars surplus cash in his pocket had a right to talk that way. "The matter, of course," continued Wallingford, "requires considerable further investigation. In the meantime, I stand ready to pay you now a hundred dollars for a thirty-day option upon forty acres of your swamp land, the hundred to apply upon a total purchase price of one thousand dollars. Moreover, I'll make it a part of the contract that no enterprise be undertaken upon this ground without receiving your sanction." Mr. Bubble considered this matter in pompous silence for some little time. "Suppose we just reduce that proposition to writing, Mr. Wallingford," he finally suggested, and without stirring from his seat he raised his voice and called: "Fannie!"