As we reached the Shore Lane he paused again, and I thought he was about to speak.He did not, however, and we crossed the boundary line of my property and entered the Colton grounds.As we drew nearer to the house I was surprised to see how large it was.When the Atwaters owned it I was an occasional caller there, for old Major Atwater was fond of shooting and sometimes borrowed my decoys.But, since it changed hands, I had not been nearer to it than the Lane.With the new wing and the other additions it was enormous.It fairly reeked of money, though, so far as I was a judge, the taste shown in rebuilding and decorating was good.We turned the corner, where Asa Peters, the head carpenter, came hurrying up.Asa looked surprised enough to see me in company with his employer and regarded me wonderingly."Mr.Colton," he said, "I wanted to ask you about them skylights." I stepped back out of hearing, but I inferred from Colton's actions that the question was another one of the "unnecessary" ones he had so scornfully referred to in the boathouse.
"Jackass!" he exclaimed, as he rejoined me.I judged he was classifying Asa, but, if so, he did not trouble to lower his voice.
"Come on, Paine," he added, and we passed a long line of windows, hung with costly curtains, and stepped up on a handsome Colonial portico before two big doors.
The doors were opened by an imposing personage in dark blue and brass buttons, who bowed profoundly before Colton and regarded me with condescending superiority.This personage, whom I recognized, from Alvin's description, as the "minister-lookin'" butler, led us through a hall about as large as our sitting-room, dining-room and kitchen combined, but bearing no other resemblance to these apartments, and opened another door, through which, bowing once more, he ushered us.Then he closed the door, leaving himself, to my relief, outside.It had been a long time since I was waited upon by a butler and I found this specimen rather overpowering.
The room we were in was the library, and, though it was bigger and far more sumptuous than the library I remembered so well as a boy, the sight of the books in their cases along the walls gave me a feeling almost of homesickness.My resentment against my millionaire neighbor increased.Why should he and his have everything, and the rest of us be deprived of the little we once had?
Colton seated himself in a leather upholstered chair and waved his hand toward another.
"Sit down," he said.He took a cigar from his pocket."Smoke?" he asked.
I was a confirmed smoker, but I was not going to smoke one of his cigars--not then.
"No thank you," said I.He did not comment on my refusal, but lit the cigar himself, from the stump of his former one.Then he crossed his legs and proceeded, with characteristic abruptness, to his subject.
"Paine," he began, "you own this land next to me, you say.Your property ends at the fence this side of that road we just crossed, doesn't it?""It ends where yours begins," I announced.
"Yes.Just this side of that road."
"Of the Shore Lane.It isn't a road exactly.""I don't care what you call it.Road or lane or cow-path.It ends there?""Yes."
"And it IS your land? It belongs to you, personally, all of it, free and clear?""Why--yes; it does." I could not see what business of his my ownership of that land might be.
"All right.I asked that because, if it wasn't yours, if it was tied up or mortgaged in any way, it might complicate matters.But it isn't.""No."
"Good! Then we can get down to brass tacks and save time.I want a piece of that land."I looked at him.
"You want--?" I repeated, slowly.
"I want a strip of your land.Want to buy it, of course.I don't expect you to give it to me.What's it worth, by the acre, say?"I did not answer.All at once I was beginning to see a light.
Captain Jed Dean's mysterious conversation at the post-office was beginning to lose some of its mystery.
"Well?" asked Colton, impatiently.Then, without waiting longer, he added:
"By the way, before you name a figure, answer me one more question.
That road--or lane, or whatever it is--that is yours, too? Doesn't belong to the town?"The light was growing more brilliant.I could see breakers ahead.
"No," I replied, slowly."It is a private way.It belongs to me.""Good! Well, what's that land of yours worth by the acre?"I shook my head."I scarcely know," I said."I've never figured it that way.""I don't care how you figure it.Here, let's get down to a business proposition.I want to buy a strip of that land from the Lower Road--that's what you call the one above here, isn't it?--to the beach.The strip I want is about three hundred feet wide, for a guess.It extends from my fence to the other side of that grove by the bluff.What will you sell it for?"The breakers were close aboard.However, I dodged them momentarily.
"Why do you want to buy?" I asked.
"For reasons."
"I should think you had land enough already.""I thought I had, but it seems I haven't.Well, what's your price for that strip?""Mr.Colton, I--I'm afraid--"
"Never mind that.I suppose you're afraid you'll make the price too low.Now, see here, I'm a busy man.I haven't time to do any bargaining.Name your price and, if it's anywhere within reason, we won't haggle.I expect to pay more than anyone else would.
That's part of my fine for being a city man and not a native.Gad!
the privilege is worth the money.I'll pay the fine.What's the price?""But why do you want to buy?"
"For reasons of my own, I tell you.They haven't anything to do with your selling.""I'm not so sure."
"What do you mean by that?"
"That strip takes in the Shore Lane, Mr.Colton.""I know it."
"And, if you buy, I presume the Lane will be closed."He looked at me, surprised, and, I thought, a little annoyed.
"Well?" he said; "suppose it is?"
"But it will be, won't it?"
"You bet your life it will! What of it?""Then I don't know that I care to sell."
He leaned back in his chair.
