my wife is beginning to admit that, and she was the
keenest to come here. Some day I shall get sick of it and sell out, I
suppose."

"Sell out?"

"Oh, not yet. Mabel--my daughter--seems to like it here, for some
unknown reason, and wants to stay. And I don't intend to sell until I've
bought--what I set out to buy. But I'm not the subject we're talking
about just now. You are. Come! here's your chance to be somebody. More
chance than I had, I'll tell you that. You can go to work in my office
next week, if you want to. Will you?"

I laughed at the idea. I believed I had found the motive I was seeking.
"Of course not," I said. "You can't close the Lane by that kind of
bribery, Mr. Colton."

"Bribery be hanged! Come, come, Paine! Wake up, or I shall think your
brains aren't up to standard, after all. When I bribe I bribe. When I
ask a man to work for me there are no strings tied to the offer. Forget
your picayune land for a minute. Time enough to remember that when I've
got it, which will be some day or other, of course. I'm making you this
offer because I want you. You're sharp; you saw through that Development
game. You're clever--your sending me that 'cat' message proves it. And
your not telling me where the idea for the message came from proves that
you can keep your mouth shut. I could use a dozen fellows like you, if
I could get them. You interested me right at the start. A chap with sand
enough to tell Jim Colton to go to the devil is always interesting. I'm
offering you this chance because I think it is a good chance for both
of us. Yes, and because I like you, I suppose, in spite of your
pig-headedness. Will you take it?"

"No, thank you," I answered.

"Why? Because you can't leave your sick mother? She'll be all right.
I was talking with the doctor--Quimby, his name is, isn't it--and he
happened to mention that he was encouraged about her. Said she had been
distinctly better for the last month."

I could not believe it. Doctor Quimby had said nothing of the sort to
me. It was impossible. Mother BETTER!

"That doesn't mean she is going to be well and strong again, of course,"
he added, not unkindly. "But I think Quimby believes she may be well
enough to--perhaps--sit up one of these days. Be wheeled about in a
chair, or something of that sort . . . Why! what is the matter? You
looked as if I had knocked you out. Hasn't the doctor said anything to
you?"

"No," I stammered. I WAS knocked out. I could not