Whatever I make in this deal, and you seem to think our share will be plenty, goes to getting those farmers back their land.

So far as I'm concerned that money we paid them was rent, not a loan!" Barclay dropped his hands in astonishment and gaped at Hendricks.
"Well, my dear Miss Nancy," he exclaimed, "when did you get religion ?" The two men glared at each other a moment, and Hendricks grappled his devil and drew a long breath and replied: "Well, you heard what I said." And then he added: "I'm pretty keen for money, John, but when it comes to skinning a lot of neighbours out of land that you and every one says is going to raise thirty dollars' worth of wheat to the acre this year alone, and only paying them ten dollars an acre for the title to the land itself--" He did not finish.

After a pause he added: "Why, they'll mob you, man.

I've got to live with those farmers." Barclay sneered at Hendricks without speaking and Hendricks stepped over to him and drew back his open hand as he said angrily, "Stop it--stop it, I say." Then he exclaimed: "I'm not what you'd call nasty nice, John--but I'm no robber.

I can't take the rent of that land for nothing, raise a thirty-dollar crop on every acre of it, and make them pay me ten dollars an acre to get back the poor land and steal the good land, on a hocus-pocus option." "'I do not use the nasty weed, said little Robert Reed,'" replied Barclay, with a leer on his face.