lot; a granary; stables and corral, no good; house, fair to middlin'.
Two hundred an' fifty acres worth ten dollars at least, best out of
doors; cattle run, two hundred acres worth five; swamp and sleugh, fifty
acres, only good to look at but mighty pretty in the mornin' at sun-up.
Not much money in scenery though. Building worth between two and three
thousand. Your plant here is worth about six thousand. I know I offered
you five thousand, but I was buyin' then and now I am buyin' and
sellin'. Anyway, I guess it's about even, an' we'll save you a lot of
trouble an' time an' money. An' so, if you really want a western farm,
you might just as well have mine. I did not think to sell. Of course
I knew I must sell in the long run, but couldn't just see my place in
anybody else's hands. Somehow it seems different though to see you folks
on it. You seem to fit. Anyway, there's the offer. What do you say?"

"Sit down, Mr. Sleighter," said Mr. Gwynne. "This is a rather surprising
proposition."

Mrs. Gwynne's eyes grew soft. "Michael, I think it is wonderful."

But Mr. Gwynne would not look at his wife. "Let me see, Mr. Sleighter,
your farm, you say, with buildings, is worth about six thousand to
sixty-five hundred. Mine is worth from fifty-five hundred to six
thousand. I will take your offer and pay the difference."

"Oh, come off your perch," said Mr. Sleighter. "You're doin' the
highfalutin' Vere de Vere act now. Listen to me. The deal is as level as
I can figger it. Your farm and store with the machine business suit me
all right. I feel I can place my boy right here for a while anyway. My
farm, I believe, would suit you better than anythin' else you can get.
There's my offer. Take it or leave it."