The Early Bird: A Business Man's Love Story

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by George Randolph Chester


  CHAPTER IV

  A LITTLE VACATION PASTIME IN WHICH GREEK MEETS GREEK

  Old man Gifford was not at home in his squat, low-roofed farm-house,but a woman shaped like a pyramid of diminishing pumpkins directed themdown through the grove to the corn patch. It was necessary to liftstrenuously upon the sagging end of a squeaky old gate, and scrape itacross gulleys, to get the automobile into the narrow, deeply-ruttedroad, and with a mind fearful of tires the chauffeur wheeled downthrough the grove quite slowly, a slowness for which Sam was dulygrateful, since it allowed him to take a careful appraisement of thewalnut trees, interspersed with occasional oaks, which bordered bothsides of their path. They were tall, thick, straight-trunked trees,from amongst which the underbrush had been carefully cut away. It wasa joy to his now vandal soul, this grove, and already he could seethose majestic trunks, after having been sawed with as little wastefulchopping as possible, toppling in endless billowy furrows.

  Old man Gifford came inquiringly up between the long rows of corn tothe far edge of the grove. He was bent and weazened, and more gnarledthan any of his trees, and even his fingers seemed to have the knotty,angular effect of twigs. A fringe of gray beard surrounded hisclean-shaven face, which was criss-crossed with innumerable littlefurrows that the wind and rain had worn in it; but a pair of shrewd oldeyes twinkled from under his bushy eyebrows.

  "Morning, 'Ennery," he said, addressing the chauffeur with a squeakylittle voice in which, though after forty years of residence inAmerica, there was still a strong trace of British accent; and then hiscalculating gaze rested calmly in turns upon the other occupants of themachine.

  "Good morning, Mr. Gifford," returned the chauffeur. "Fine day, isn'tit?"

  "Good corn-ripenin' weather," agreed the old man, squinting at the skyfrom force of habit, and then, being satisfied that there was nothreatening cloud in all the visible blue expanse, he returned to acalm consideration of the strangers, waiting patiently for Mr. Turnerto introduce himself.

  "I understand, Mr. Gifford, that you are open to an offer for yourwalnut trees," began Mr. Turner, looking at his watch.

  "Well, I might be," admitted the old man cautiously.

  "I see," returned Sam; "that is, you might be interested if the pricewere right. Let's get right down to brass tacks. How much do youwant?"

  "Standin' or cut?"

  "Well, say standing?"

  "How much do you offer?"

  Miss Stevens' gaze roved from the one to the other and found enjoymentin the fact that here Greek had met Greek.

  Sam's reply was prompt and to the point. He named a price.

  "No," said the old man instantly. "I been a-holdin' out for fivedollars a thousand more than that."

  Things were progressing. A basis for haggling had been established.Sam Turner, however, had the advantage. He knew the sharp advance inwalnut announced that morning. Old man Gifford would not be aware ofit until the rural free delivery brought his evening paper, of thenight before, some time that afternoon. In view of the recent advance,even at Mr. Gifford's price there was a handsome profit in thetransaction.

  "The reason you've had to hold out for your rate until right now wasthat nobody would pay it," said Sam confidently. "Now I'm here to talkspot cash. I'll give you, say, a thousand dollars down, and thebalance immediately upon measurement as the logs are loaded upon thecars."

  The old man nodded in approval.

  "The terms is all right," he said.

  "How much will you take F. O. B. Restview?"

  "Well, cuttin' and trimmin' and haulin' ain't much in my line,"returned the old man, again cautious; "but after all, I reckon thatthere'd be less damage to my property if I looked after it myself. Ofcourse, I'd have to have a profit for handlin' it. I'd feel likeholdin' out for--for--" and after some hesitation he again named afigure.

  "You've made that same proposition to others," charged Sam shrewdly,"and you couldn't get the price." Upon the heels of this he made hisown offer.

  The old man shook his head and turned as if to start back to the cornfield.

  "No, I can get better than that," he declared, shaking his head.

  "Come back here and let's talk turkey," protested Sam compellingly."You name the very lowest price you'll take, delivered on board thecars at Restview."

  The old man reached down, pulled up a blade of grass, chewed itcarefully, spit it out, and named his very, very lowest price; then headded: "What's the most you'll give?"

  Miss Stevens leaned forward intently.

  Sam very promptly named a figure five dollars lower.

  "I'll split the difference with you," offered the old man.

  "It's a bargain!" said Sam, and reaching into the inside pocket of histennis coat, he brought out some queer furniture for that sort ofgarment--a small fountain pen and an extremely small card-case, fromthe latter of which he drew four folded blank checks.

  He reached over and borrowed the chauffeur's enameled cap, dusted itcarefully with his handkerchief, laid a check upon it and held hisfountain pen poised. "What are your initials, please, Mr. Gifford?"

  "Wait a minute," said the old man hastily. "Don't make out that checkjust yet. I don't do any business or sign any contracts till I talkwith Hepseba."

  "All right. Climb right in with Henry there," directed Sam, seizingupon the chauffeur's name. "We'll drive straight up to see her."

  "I'll walk," firmly declared Mr. Gifford. "I never have rode in one ofthem things, and I'm too old to begin."

  "Very well," said Sam cheerfully, jumping out of the machine with greatpromptness. "I'll walk with you. Back to the house, Henry," and hestarted anxiously to trudge up the road with Mr. Gifford, leaving Henryto manoeuver painfully in the narrow space. After a few steps,however, a sudden thought made him turn back. "Maybe you'd rather walkup, too," he suggested to Miss Stevens.

  "No, I think I'll ride," she said coldly.

  He opened the door in extreme haste.

  "Do come on and walk," he pleaded. "Don't hold it against me because Ijust don't seem to be able to think of more than one thing at a time;but I was so wrapped up in this deal that-- Really," and he sank hisvoice confidentially, "I have a tremendous bargain here, and I'll benervous about it until I have it clenched. I'll tell you why as we gohome."

  He held out his hand as a matter of course to help her down. The whiteof his eyes was remarkably clear, the irises were remarkably blue, thepupils remarkably deep. Suddenly her face cleared and she laughed.

  "It was silly of me to be snippy, wasn't it?" she confessed, as shetook his hand and stepped lightly to the ground. It had just recurredto her that when he knew Princeman was walking over to see her he hadsaid nothing, but had engaged an automobile.

  Old man Gifford had nothing much to say when they caught up with him.Mr. Turner tried him with remarks about the weather, and received fullinformation, but when he attempted to discuss the details of the walnutpurchase, he received but mere grunts in reply, except finally this:

  "There's no use, young man. I won't talk about them trees till I getHepseba's opinion."

  At the house Hepseba waddled out on the little stoop in response to oldman Gifford's call, and stood regarding the strangers stonily throughher narrow little slits of eyes.

  "This gentleman, Hepseba," said old man Gifford, "wants to buy mywalnut trees. What do you think of him?"

  In response to that leading question, Hepseba studied Sam Turner fromhead to foot with the sort of scrutiny under which one slightly reddens.

  Hepseba studied him from head to foot]

  "I like him," finally announced Hepseba, in a surprisingly liquid andfeminine voice. "I like both of them," an unexpected turn whichbrought a flush to the face of Miss Stevens.

  "All right, young man," said old man Gifford briskly. "Now, then, youcome in the front room and write your contract, and I'll take yourcheck."

  All alacrity and open cordiality now, he led the way into the queer-oldfront room, musty
with the solemnity of many dim Sundays.

  "Just set down here in this easy chair, Mrs.-- What did you say yourname is?" Mr. Gifford inquired, turning to Sam.

  "Turner; Sam J. Turner," returned that gentleman, grinning. "But thisis Miss Stevens."

  "No offense meant or taken, I hope," hastily said the old man by way ofapology; "but I do say that Mr. Turner would be lucky if he had such apretty wife."

  "You have both good taste and good judgment, Mr. Gifford," commentedSam as airily as he could; then he looked across at Miss Stevens andlaughed aloud, so openly and so ingenuously that, so far from thelaughter giving offense, it seemed, strangely enough, to put MissJosephine at her ease, though she still blushed furiously. There wasnothing in that laugh nor in his look but frank, boyish enjoyment ofthe joke.

  There ensued a crisp and decisive conversation between Mr. Gifford andMr. Turner about the details of their contract, and 'Ennery waspresently called in to append to it his painfully precise signature invertical writing, Miss Stevens adding hers in a pretty round hand.Then Hepseba, to bind the bargain, brought in hot apple pie fresh fromthe oven, and they became quite a little family party indeed, and veryfriendly, 'Ennery sitting in the parlor with them and eating his piewith a fork.

  "I know what Hepseba thinks," said old man Gifford, as he held the doorof the car open for them. "She thinks you're a mighty keen young manthat has to be watched in the beginning of a bargain, because you'llgive as little as you can; but that after the bargain's made you don'tneed any more watching. But Lord love you, I have to be watched in abargain myself. I take everything I can."

  As he finished saying this he was closing the door of the car, butHepseba called to them to wait, and came puffing out of the house witha little bundle wrapped in a newspaper.

  "I brought this out for your wife," she said to Mr. Turner, and handedit to Miss Josephine. "It's some geranium slips. Everybody says I gotthe very finest geraniums in the bottoms here."

  "Goodness, Hepseba," exclaimed old man Gifford, highly delighted; "thatain't his wife. That's Miss Stevens. I made the same mistake," and hehawhawed in keen enjoyment.

  Hepseba was so evidently overcome with mortification, however, and herhuge round face turned so painfully red, that Miss Stevens lostentirely any embarrassment she might otherwise have felt.

  "It doesn't matter at all, I assure you, Mrs. Gifford," she said withcharming eagerness to set Hepseba at ease. "I am very fond ofgeraniums, and I shall plant these slips and take good care of them. Ithank you very, very much for them."

  As the machine rolled away Hepseba turned to old man Gifford:

  "I like both of them!" she stated most decisively.

 

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