small, fishy eyes, as if he had made an uncommonly liberal offer. As
for Philip, he hardly knew whether to be angry or amused.

"You offer me a dollar and sixty-four cents for my violin?" he
repeated.

"Yes. It's second-hand, to be sure, but I guess it's in pretty fair
condition. Besides, you might help me a little about learnin' how to
play."

"How much do you suppose the violin cost?" inquired Philip.

"Couldn't say."

"It cost my father twenty-five dollars."

"Oh, come, now, that's too thin! You don't expect a feller to
believe such a story as that?"

"I expect to be believed, for I never tell anything but the truth."

"Oh, well, I don't expect you do, generally, but when it comes to
tradin', most everybody lies," observed Nick candidly.

"I have no object in misrepresenting, for I don't want to sell the
violin."

"You can't afford to keep it! The town won't let you!"

"The town won't let me?" echoed Philip, now thoroughly mystified.