"Say ONE passionate man, Mr. Ford."

"Well, one if you like," returned the master cheerfully. "But for the
matter of that, why any? Come--do you mind telling me why you bought
the land at all? You know it's of little value to any but McKinstry and
Harrison."

"Soppose," said Uncle Ben slowly, with a great affectation of wiping his
ink-spotted desk with his sleeve, "soppose that I had got kinder tired
of seein' McKinstry and Harrison allus fightin' and scrimmagin' over
their boundary line. Soppose I kalkilated that it warn't the sort o'
thing to induce folks to settle here. Soppose I reckoned that by gettin'
the real title in my hands I'd have the deadwood on both o' them, and
settle the thing my own way, eh?"

"That certainly was a very laudable intention," returned Mr. Ford,
observing Uncle Ben curiously, "and from what you said just now about
one passionate man, I suppose you have determined already WHO to favor.
I hope your public spirit will be appreciated by Indian Spring at
least--if it isn't by those two men."

"You lay low and keep dark and you'll see," returned his companion with
a hopefulness of speech which his somewhat anxious eagerness however did
not quite bear out. "But you're not goin' yet, surely," he added, as the
master again absently consulted his watch. "It's on'y half past four.
It's true thar ain't any more to tell," he added simply, "but I had an
idea that you might hev took to this yer little story of mine more than
you 'pear to be, and might be askin' questions and kinder bedevlin' me
with jokes ez to what I was goin' to do--and all that. But p'raps it