likely to go years before you get another bid. Our client wants to get his daughter out into this air, and he has money to spend fixing up. I tell you what we'll do—we'll pay this year's taxes—include them in the sale price. Why, ladies, you'll have a thousand dollars in cash!"
Betty could picture Miss Hope's eyes at the thought of a thousand dollars.
"Well, Sister, perhaps we had better take it," suggested Miss Charity timidly. "We can do sewing or something like that, and that money will put Bob through school."
"Come on, here's where we put a spoke in the wheel," whispered Mr. Gordon, beckoning Betty to follow him and striding down the hall.
"Why, Betty!" Miss Hope rose hastily and kissed her. "Sister and I had begun to worry about you."
"This is my uncle, Mr. Gordon, Miss Hope," said Betty. "I found him in Flame City. Has Bob come back?"
Miss Hope, much flustered by the presence of another stranger, said that Bob had not returned, and presented Mr. Gordon to her sister.
"These gentlemen, Mr. Snead and Mr. Elmer,"—she consulted the cards in her hand—"have called to see us about selling our farm."
Mr. Gordon nodded curtly to the pair whose
