He looked inquiringly at Taylor as he approached, but hardly deigned to look at Ben, who probably seemed too insignificant to notice.

He gave a shrewd guess at the errand of the visitor, but waited for him to speak first.
"Is this Mr.Jackson ?" asked Taylor, with a polite bow.
"That's my name, stranger," answered the old man.
"My name is Taylor.

I wrote to you last week." "I got the letter," said Jackson, going on with his work.

It was his plan not to seem too eager but to fight shy in order to get his price.
Besides, though he would have been glad to close the bargain on the spot, there was an embarrassing difficulty.

The farm was not his to sell, and he was anxiously awaiting Mrs.Hamilton's answer to his proposal.
"She can't have heard of the oil discoveries," he thought, "and five thousand dollars will seem a big price for the farm.