“‘Yes, sir,’ I says, ‘an’ we’ve got to meet ’em halfway.  Now,’ I says, takin’ a paper out o’ my pocket, ’what I wanted to say to you is this:  You ben ruther more prom’nent in this matter than most anybody—­fur’s talkin’ goes—­but I’m consid’ably int’risted.  The’s got to be some money raised, an’ I’m ready,’ I says, ’to put down as much as you be up to a couple o’ hunderd, an’ I’ll take the paper ‘round to the rest; but,’ I says, unfoldin’ it, ‘I think you’d ought to head the list, an’ I’ll come next.’  Wa’al,” said David with a chuckle and a shake of the head, “you’d ought to have seen his jaw go down.  He wriggled ‘round in his chair, an’ looked ten diff’rent ways fer Sunday.

“‘What do you say?’ I says, lookin’ square at him, ’’ll you make it a couple a hunderd?’

“‘Wa’al,’ he says, ’I guess I couldn’t go ’s fur ‘s that, an’ I wouldn’t like to head the list anyway.’

“‘All right,’ I says, ‘I’ll head it.  Will you say one-fifty?’

“‘No,’ he says, pullin’ his whiskers, ‘I guess not.’

“‘A hunderd?’ I says, an’ he shook his head.

“‘Fifty,’ I says, ‘an’ I’ll go a hunderd,’ an at that he got out his hank’chif an’ blowed his nose, an’ took his time to it.  ‘Wa’al,’ I says, ‘what do ye say?’

“‘Wa’al,’ he says, ’I ain’t quite prepared to give ye ’n answer to-night.  Fact on’t is,’ he says, ‘it don’t make a cent’s wuth o’ diff’rence to me person’ly which way the dum’d road comes in, an’ I don’t jest this minute see why I should spend any money in it.’

“‘There’s the princ’ple o’ the thing,’ I says.

“‘Yes,’ he says, gettin’ out of his chair, ’of course, there’s the princ’ple of the thing, an’—­wa’al, I’ll think it over an’ see you agin,’ he says, lookin’ at his watch.  ‘I got to go now.’

“Wa’al, the next night,” proceeded Mr. Harum, “I went down to the hotel agin, an’ the’ was about the same crowd, but no Staples.  The’ wa’n’t much goin’ on, an’ Purse, in pertic’ler, was lookin’ putty down in the mouth.  ‘Where’s Staples?’ I says.

“‘Wa’al,’ says Purse, ‘he said mebbe he’d come to-night, an’ mebbe he couldn’t.  Said it wouldn’t make much diff’rence; an’ anyhow he was goin’ out o’ town up to Syrchester fer a few days.  I don’t know what’s come over the feller,’ says Purse.  ‘I told him the time was gittin’ short an’ we’d have to git in our best licks, an’ he said he guessed he’d done about all ‘t he could, an’ in fact,’ says Purse, ’he seemed to ‘a’ lost int’rist in the hull thing.’”

“What did you say?” John asked.

“Wa’al,” said David with a grin, “Purse went on to allow ’t he guessed somebody’s pocketbook had ben talkin’, but I didn’t say much of anythin’, an’ putty soon come away.  Two three days after,” he continued, “I see Tenaker agin.  ‘I hear Staples has gone out o’ town,’ he says, ‘an’ I hear, too,’ he says, ‘that he’s kind o’ soured on the hull thing—­didn’t care much how it did come out.’