“P.S.—­My offer will hold good for only two weeks.”

“He seems to be very much in earnest,” said Ben.

“He has reason to be so, as he hopes to make forty-five thousand dollars on his investment.”

“He will be bitterly disappointed,” said Ben.

“I don’t care anything about Jackson,” said the stranger.  “I would just as soon negotiate with you.  Are you authorized to sell the farm?”

“No,” answered Ben; “but Mrs. Hamilton will probably be guided by my advice in the mater.”

“That amounts to the same thing.  I offer you forty thousand dollars for it.”

“I think favorably of your proposal, Mr. ——­”

“My name is Taylor.”

“Mr. Taylor; but I prefer to delay answering till I am on the ground and can judge better of the matter.”

“You are right.  I was surprised at first that Mrs. Hamilton should have selected so young an agent.  I begin to think her choice was a judicious one.”

CHAPTER XXXI MR. JACKSON RECEIVES A CALL

“Suppose we join forces, Ben,” said Mr. Taylor familiarly.

“How do you mean?”

“We will join forces against this man Jackson.  He wants to swindle both of us—­that is, those whom we represent.

“I am willing to work with you” answered Ben, who had been favorably impressed by the appearance and frankness of his traveling companion.

“Then suppose to-morrow morning—­it is too late to-day—­we call over and see the old rascal.”

“I would rather not have him know on what errand I come, just at first.”

“That is in accordance with my own plans.  You will go as my companion.  He will take you for my son, or nephew, and, while I am negotiating, you can watch and judge for yourself.”

“I like the plan,” said Ben.

“When he finds out who you are he will feel pretty badly sold.”

“He deserves it.”

The two put up at a country hotel, which, though not luxurious, was tolerably comfortable.  After the fatigue of his journey, Ben enjoyed a good supper and a comfortable bed.  The evening, however, he spent in the public room of the inn, where he had a chance to listen to the conversation of a motley crowd, some of them native and residents, others strangers who had been drawn to Centerville by the oil discoveries.

“I tell you,” said a long, lank individual, “Centerville’s goin’ to be one of the smartest places in the United States.  It’s got a big future before it.”

“That’s so,” said a small, wiry man; “but I’m not so much interested in that as I am in the question whether or not I’ve got a big future before me.”

“You’re one of the owners of the Hoffman farm, ain’t you?”

“Yes.  I wish I owned the whole of it.  Still, I’ve made nigh on to a thousand dollars durin’ the last month for my share of the profits.  Pretty fair, eh?”