"That's what I didn't know," said Sam. "But I do know now. I asked the first person I met after I got off the train and oddly enough he turned out to be the owner himself. It was old Clifford--Isaiah, Elisha, Hosea--Jeremiah, that's it. I knew it was one of the prophets."
"So Mr. Clifford owns that land. I didn't know that."
"Neither did I. He didn't tell me at first that he did own it.
Asked me what I wanted to know for."
"Did you tell him?" asked Mary.
For the first time since Mr. Keith's arrival that young gentleman's easy assurance seemed a little shaken. He appeared to feel rather foolish.
"Why, yes, to be honest, I did," he admitted. "I was an idiot, I suppose, but everyone asks about everyone's else business down here and I didn't think. He kept talking and pumping and before I realized it I told him about Raymond's being so anxious to get that property, being dead set on it and all that, and about my being commissioned to buy at any reasonable figure. And then, after a while, he astonished me by saying he owned the land himself.
Confound it! I suppose he'll jam the price away up after what I told him."
"Oh, then you haven't bought?"
"Not yet. I was willing, but for some reason he wouldn't sell at once--wouldn't even talk price. Wanted to think it over, he said.
I can't wait now, but I am coming down again on Monday and we shall close the deal then."
That evening Mary told Shadrach what Sam had said. The Captain looked puzzled.
"I didn't know Jerry Clifford owned that land," he said. "I don't believe he does."
"Of course he does, Uncle Shad. He wouldn't have told Sam he did own it if he didn't. What in the world would he gain by that?"
"Why, nothin', I presume likely. But he must have bought it mighty recent. Last I heard Jimmie G. owned that piece. 'Twas part of the property his father left him. Next time I see Jimmie I'll ask him."
So, three days later, when Jimmie G.--his last name was Peters--passed the store the Captain hailed him and, inviting him in, went straight to the point.
"When did you sell Jerry Clifford that North Inlet land of yours, Jim?" he asked.
Jimmie G. looked surprised. "How in time did you know I had sold it?" he demanded. "It beats all how things get around in this town.
I never sold that land until day afore yesterday evenin' and the deed didn't pass till yesterday, and yet you know the whole business. Not that I care; 'twas Jerry wanted it kept still. Who told you?"
Captain Shad whistled. "I see," he said slowly. "I see. Yes, yes.
When Jerry told Sam he owned that land he . . . Humph! It's just another case of the boy lied, that's all. Tut, tut, tut! When you get ahead of Jerry Clifford you've got to turn out early, ain't you?
I hope you got a good price for the land, Jim."
"Well, I didn't; that is, not very big. What's up, anyway? What are you hintin' at, Cap'n Shad?"
Before the Captain could answer, Mary, who had been listening to the conversation, broke in to ask a question.
"Mr. Peters," she cried eagerly, "would you mind telling me this:
Whose name is the new deed in, Mr. Clifford's or his wife's?"
Jimmie G. laughed. "Why, that was kind of funny, too," he said.
"You know Jerry, Cap'n Shad; he never has nothin' in his own name--it's all in his wife's. That's a principle of his."
"I'd call it a lack of principle," grunted Shadrach. "Never mind, Jim; go on."
"But he was in a terrible rush to close the sale, for some reason or other," went on Peters, "and I forgot, myself, and had the deed made in the name of Jeremiah Clifford. He made a big row at first, but it seemed as if he couldn't wait for me to have it changed, so he handed over his check and--"
"Wait! Wait, please, Mr. Peters!" broke in Mary, her eyes flashing with excitement. "Just tell me if I understand you correctly. You sold that land to Mr. Clifford and he owns it now IN HIS OWN NAME?"
"Why, yes--sartin."
Mary waited to hear no more. She ran out of the store and to the post-office. A few minutes later she was talking with Judge Baxter over the telephone. When she returned the Captain was curious to know where she had been, but she would not tell him.
"Wait," she said. "Wait, Uncle Shad; I think something is going to happen."
It happened on Monday morning. Mary was at the desk; Simeon was in the back room getting ready his early morning orders, and Captain Shad was standing by the window looking out. Suddenly Mary heard him utter an exclamation.
"What is the matter?" she asked.
"Oh, nothin'."
"You spoke as if you were in pain."
"No wonder. I'm lookin' at somethin' that gives me a pain. That wizened-up landshark of a Jerry Clifford is in sight, bound to the post-office, I cal'late. Goin' to put a one-cent stamp on a letter and let the feller that gets it pay the other cent, I suppose. He always asks the postmaster to lick the stamp, so's to save the wear and tear on his own tongue. That's a fact. . . . No," he added, a moment later, "he ain't goin' to the office; he's turnin' down the lane here. . . . Eh! Jumpin' fire of brimstone, I do believe--
WHAT in the world?"
For Mr. Clifford's step was upon the platform of the store and in another moment the door opened and the tight-fisted one himself appeared. Shadrach said nothing; he could only stare in amazement.
It had been more than two years since Jeremiah had crossed that threshold.
