“Of course, he couldn’t do anything with them.  When a man’s offered a big price for his farm, he don’t care whether it’s by a secret emissary from the Standard Oil or not; he’s going to sell and get the better of the other fellow if he can.  Dryfoos couldn’t keep the boom out of has own family even.  His wife was with him.  She thought whatever he said and did was just as right as if it had been thundered down from Sinai.  But the young folks were sceptical, especially the girls that had been away to school.  The boy that had been kept at home because he couldn’t be spared from helping his father manage the farm was more like him, but they contrived to stir the boy up—­with the hot end of the boom, too.  So when a fellow came along one day and offered old Dryfoos a cool hundred thousand for his farm, it was all up with Dryfoos.  He’d ‘a’ liked to ‘a’ kept the offer to himself and not done anything about it, but his vanity wouldn’t let him do that; and when he let it out in his family the girls outvoted him.  They just made him sell.

“He wouldn’t sell all.  He kept about eighty acres that was off in some piece by itself, but the three hundred that had the old brick house on it, and the big barn—­that went, and Dryfoos bought him a place in Moffitt and moved into town to live on the interest of his money.  Just What he had scolded and ridiculed everybody else for doing.  Well, they say that at first he seemed like he would go crazy.  He hadn’t anything to do.  He took a fancy to that land-agent, and he used to go and set in his office and ask him what he should do.  ’I hain’t got any horses, I hain’t got any cows, I hain’t got any pigs, I hain’t got any chickens.  I hain’t got anything to do from sun-up to sun-down.’  The fellow said the tears used to run down the old fellow’s cheeks, and if he hadn’t been so busy himself he believed he should ‘a’ cried, too.  But most o’ people thought old Dryfoos was down in the mouth because he hadn’t asked more for his farm, when he wanted to buy it back and found they held it at a hundred and fifty thousand.  People couldn’t believe he was just homesick and heartsick for the old place.  Well, perhaps he was sorry he hadn’t asked more; that’s human nature, too.

“After a while something happened.  That land-agent used to tell Dryfoos to get out to Europe with his money and see life a little, or go and live in Washington, where he could be somebody; but Dryfoos wouldn’t, and he kept listening to the talk there, and all of a sudden he caught on.  He came into that fellow’s one day with a plan for cutting up the eighty acres he’d kept into town lots; and he’d got it all plotted out so-well, and had so many practical ideas about it, that the fellow was astonished.  He went right in with him, as far as Dryfoos would let him, and glad of the chance; and they were working the thing for all it was worth when I struck Moffitt.  Old Dryfoos wanted me to go out and see the Dryfoos & Hendry Addition—­guess