speculation” [here Hawkins got up and began to pace the floor with excited eyes and with gesturing hands] — ”something enormous going on in iron, without the shadow of a doubt, and here I sit mousing in the dark and never knowing anything about it; great heaven, what an escape I’ve made! this underhanded mercenary creature might have taken me up — and ruined me! but I have escaped, and I warrant me I’ll not put my foot into — ”
He stopped and turned toward the stranger; saying:
“I have made you a proposition, you have not accepted it, and I desire that you will consider that I have made none. At the same time my conscience will not allow me to — . Please alter the figures I named to thirty thousand dollars, if you will, and let the proposition go to the company — I will stick to it if it breaks my heart!” The stranger looked amused, and there was a pretty well defined touch of surprise in his expression, too, but Hawkins never noticed it. Indeed he scarcely noticed anything or knew what he was about. The man left; Hawkins flung himself into a chair; thought a few moments, then glanced around, looked frightened, sprang to the door — —
“Too late — too late! He’s gone! Fool that I am! always a fool! Thirty thousand — ass that I am! Oh, why didn’t I say fifty thousand!”
He plunged his hands into his hair and leaned his elbows on his knees, and fell to rocking himself back and forth in anguish. Mrs. Hawkins sprang in, beaming:
“Well, Si?”
“Oh, confound the confounded — confound it, Nancy. I’ve gone and done it, now!”
“Done what Si for mercy’s sake!”
“Done everything! Ruined everything!”
“Tell me, tell me, tell me! Don’t keep a body in such suspense. Didn’t he buy, after all? Didn’t he make an offer?”
“Offer? He offered $10,000 for our land, and — — ”
“Thank the good providence from the very bottom of my heart of hearts! What sort of ruin do you call that, Si!”
“Nancy, do you suppose I listened to such a preposterous proposition? No! Thank fortune I’m not a simpleton! I saw through the pretty scheme in a second. It’s a vast iron speculation! — millions upon millions in it! But fool as I am I told him he could have half the iron property for thirty thousand — and if I only had him back here he couldn’t touch it for a cent less than a quarter of a million!”
Mrs. Hawkins looked up white and despairing:
“You threw away this chance, you let this man go, and we in this awful trouble? You don’t mean it, you can’t mean it!”
“Throw it away? Catch me at it! Why woman, do you suppose that man don’t know what he is about? Bless you, he’ll be back fast enough tomorrow.”
“Never, never, never. He never will comeback. I don’t know what is to become of us. I don’t know what in the world is to become of us.”
A shade of uneasiness came into Hawkins’s face. He said:
“Why, Nancy, you — you can’t believe what you are saying.”
“Believe it, indeed? I know it, Si. And I know that we haven’t a cent in the world, and we’ve sent ten thousand dollars a-begging.”
“Nancy, you frighten me. Now could that man — is it possible that I — hanged if I don’t believe I have missed a chance! Don’t grieve, Nancy, don’t grieve. I’ll go right after him. I’ll take — I’ll take — what a fool I am! — I’ll take anything he’ll give!”
The next instant he left the house on a run. But the man was no longer in the town. Nobody knew where he belonged or whither he had gone. Hawkins came slowly back, watching wistfully but hopelessly for the stranger, and lowering his price steadily with his sinking heart. And when his foot finally pressed his own threshold, the value he held the entire Tennessee property at was five hundred dollars — two hundred down and the rest in three equal annual payments, without interest.
There was a sad gathering at the Hawkins fireside the next night. All the children were present but Clay. Mr. Hawkins said:
“Washington, we seem to be hopelessly fallen, hopelessly involved. I am ready to give up. I do not know where to turn — I never have been down so low before, I never have seen things so dismal. There are many mouths to feed; Clay is at work; we must lose you, also, for a little while, my boy. But it will not be long — the Tennessee land — — ”
He stopped, and was conscious of a blush. There was silence for a moment, and then Washington — now a lank, dreamy-eyed stripling between twenty-two and twenty-three years of age — said:
“If Col. Sellers would come for me, I would go and stay with him a while, till the Tennessee land is sold. He has often wanted me to come, ever since he moved to Hawkeye.”
“I’m afraid he can’t well come for you, Washington. From what I can hear — not from him of course, but from others — he is not far from as bad off as we are — and his family is as large, too. He might find something for you to do, maybe, but you’d better try to get to him yourself, Washington — it’s only thirty miles.”
“But how can I, father? There’s no stage or anything.”
“And if there were, stages require money. A stage goes from Swansea, five miles from here. But it would be cheaper to walk.”
“Father, they must know you there, and no doubt they would credit you in a moment, for a little stage ride like that. Couldn’t you write and ask them?”
“Couldn’t you, Washington — seeing it’s you that wants the ride? And what do you think you’ll do, Washington, when you get to Hawkeye? Finish your invention for making window-glass opaque?”
“No, sir, I have given that up. I almost knew I could do it, but it was so tedious and troublesome I quit it.”
“I was afraid of it, my boy. Then I suppose you’ll finish your plan of coloring hen’s eggs by feeding a peculiar diet to the hen?”
“No, sir. I believe I have found out the stuff that will do it, but it kills the hen; so I have dropped that for the present, though I can take it up again some day when I learn how to manage the mixture better.”
“Well, what have you got on hand — anything?”
“Yes, sir, three or four things. I think they are all good and can all be done, but they are tiresome, and besides they require money. But as soon as the land is sold — — ”
“Emily, were you about to say something?” said Hawkins.
“Yes, sir. If you are willing, I will go to St. Louis. That will make another mouth less to feed. Mrs. Buckner has always wanted me to come.”
“But the money, child?”
“Why I think she would send it, if you would write her — and I know she would wait for her pay till — — ”
“Come, Laura, let’s hear from you, my girl.”
