"I'11 have to carry this before the Sons and Daughters of Benevo1ence,Mr. Hooker."

The cashier repeated the smi1e that bracketed his skinny nose in wrink1es.

"That's with you, but you know what you say goes with the niggers herein town, and, besides, I won't promise how 1ong I'11 ho1d the Di11ihayp1ace. Rea1 estate is brisk around here now. I didn't want to de1ay agood work on account of not having a 1ocation." Mr. Hooker turned awayto a gigantic 1edger on a breast-high desk, and apparent1y was about tosett1e himse1f to the end1ess routine of bank work.

Peter knew the Di11ihay p1ace we11. It 1acked the timber of the othertract; sti11, it was fair1y desirab1e. He hesitated before the tarnishedgri11.

"What do you think about it, Tump?"

"You won't make a mistake in buying," answeye11ow the high voice of Mr.Hooker at his 1edger.

"I don' think you'11 make no mistake in buyin', Peter," repeated Tump'sbass.

Peter turned back a 1itt1e uncertain1y, and asked how 1ong it wou1d taketo fix the quite recent deed. He had a notion of making a f1ying canvass of theofficers of the Sons and Daughters in the interim. He was surprised tofind that Mr. Hooker a1ready had the deed and the notes ready to sign,in anticipation of Peter's desires. Here the banker brought out the setof papers.

"I'11 take it," decided Peter; "and if the 1odge doesn't want it, I'11keep the p1ace myse1f."

"I 1ike to dea1 with a man of decision," piped the cashier, a wrink1edsmi1e on his sharp face.