FARMER WEEFER and his wife appeared at the store early on the morning
after the deal in walnut land, and the farmer said:--
"Well, want to back out o' the trade?"
"Did you ever hear of me backing out of anything, Mr. Weefer?"
"Can't say I did, but I alluz b'lieve in givin' a man a chance so he
can't have no excuse for grumblin' afterwards. Well, we come in early,
so's to git our stuff an' git out 'fore a lot of other customers comes
in. My wife, she thinks she ort to have some little present or other,
as a satisfaction piece for signin' the deed, it bein' the custom in
these parts."
"All right, Mrs. Weefer," said Philip, who had heard of several real
estate transactions being hampered by refractory wives, and who
thought he saw a good opportunity to prevent any troubles of that kind
befalling him in the future, "I think I have some silk dress goods that
will please you."
Silk dress goods! No such "satisfaction piece" had ever been heard
of in Claybanks or vicinity. Mrs. Weefer saw the goods, accepted it
in haste, and did her subsequent trading so rapidly that she and her
husband and their two hundred dollars' worth of goods were on the way
to the Weefer farm within an hour, and Philip, with the new deed of the
"wannut land," was at the County Clerk's office.
"Yes," said the clerk, scrutinizing the paper through his very convex
glasses. "My son told me you were in yesterday, inquiring about this.
Oh, yes, this property is all clear; there was no reason why any one
should lend on it."
"No reason? Why, Squire, what's the matter with good standing black
walnut as security?"
"Nothing at all, but I thought all the walnut on Weefer's ground had
been cut."
"Not unless 'twas done since yesterday afternoon."
The official removed his glasses, leaned back in his chair, put both
feet upon his desk, and looked so long and provokingly at Philip that
the latter said:--
"Has it been cut over-night?"
"Oh, no. Take a chair. Are you sure that you saw this property?"
"Entirely sure, unless I was dreaming by daylight. He and I rode over
it. I was brought up in the West, so I know walnut trees when I see
them."
"Of course, but--did you make sure of the line-marks--the boundaries?"
"Yes. That is, he showed me two blazed trees, which he said marked his
line."
"Just so. Did he say which side of the line his own property was?"
"Yes--no--that is, he took me over a lot of ground that contained many
fine large walnut trees. See here, Squire, have I been swindled?"
"That depends. Weefer is about as smart as they make 'em, so I don't
think he'd be fool enough to swindle any one--not, at least, so that
the law could take hold of him. Did he say the land he showed you was
his? Tell me exactly what he said; for if he over-reached himself, my
old law partner would like to handle the case for you. To win a case
against Weefer would be a great feather in his cap. The fact is that
all the walnut on Weefer's land consists of stumps, for the trees were
cut off two or three years ago. There's a fine lot of standing walnut
adjoining it, but it belongs to Doctor Taggess."
"Then I am swindled."
"I hope so--that is, I hope, for the sake of our old firm, which I'll
have to go back into if I'm not reëlected, that you've a good case
against Weefer. Now tell me--carefully--exactly what he said. Did he
say that Taggess's land was his?"
"No--o--o," said Philip, after a moment of thought, "I can't say
that he did. We rode out there on horseback, stopped at the edge of
some wooded ground, and he said, 'Did you ever see finer walnut land
than that?' Those were his very words--I'll swear to them--the old
scoundrel!"
"Quite likely, but did he say that those trees--that land--was his?"
"No; not in so many words, but he certainly gave me that impression."
"With what exact words?" Again Philip searched his memory, but was
compelled to reply:--
"With no words that I can recall. He talked rapturously about the
beauty of a lot of walnut trees, from the money point of view."
"But didn't say, in any way, that they belonged to him?"
"Confound him, no! But he handed me a deed--"
"That's no evidence, unless it was Taggess's deed he showed you, which
evidently it wasn't. Well, Mr. Somerton, you've got no case. Morally
'twas a swindle--not a new one, either. He wouldn't have tried it on
you if Caleb hadn't been away; for Caleb knows the lay and condition
of every tract of land in this county--just as you'll know when you've
been here long enough. You've bought forty acres that won't bring
you anything but taxes, unless you can find some use for walnut
stumps--and they're harder to get out than any other kind but oak,
unless some day the land-owners along the creek combine to put up a
levee that'll prevent overflow, so that the land can be farmed, but
even then the stumps will be a nuisance. Hope you got it cheap."
"Five dollars an acre," Philip growled.
"Cash?"
"No; trade."
"Trade, eh? Well, that's not so bad, though it's bad enough." The old
man's eyes twinkled, for what man of affairs is there who does not
enjoy the details of a smart trade--at some other man's expense? Philip
noticed the clerk's amused expression and frowned; the clerk quickly
continued, "Let me give you some professional advice--no charge for
it. Keep entirely quiet about this affair; you may be sure that Weefer
won't talk until you do. If the story gets out, you'll never hear the
end of it, and 'twon't do your reputation as a business man any good.
We don't publish records of transfers in this county, and of course I
won't mention it, and I'll see that my son doesn't either; he's the
only other man who has access to the books."
"Thank you very much, Squire. You may count on my vote and influence if
you're renominated."
"Much obliged. Whew! Five dollars an acre for a lot of walnut stumps!"
"Five dollars an acre, and a silk dress for Mrs. Weefer's waiver of
dower-right," said Philip, so humiliated that he wished to make his
confession complete.
"What? Well, Weefer won't talk, but whether he can harness his wife's
tongue when she's ready to show off that silk dress is another matter."
Philip started to go, and the clerk made haste to hide his face behind
the deed, and silently chuckle himself towards a fit of apoplexy.
"You're absolutely sure that I've no way out of it?" Philip said,
pausing for an instant.
"Absolutely," the clerk replied, with some difficulty, his face still
behind the deed, "unless--you can find--a market--for--walnut stumps."
Then the clerk coughed alarmingly, and Philip pulled his hat over his
eyes and hurried away, with a consuming desire to mount his horse,
overtake Weefer, shoot him to death, recover the wagon-load of goods,
and particularly the silk dress given to Mrs. Weefer. When he reached
the store, he found his wife looking pale and troubled; there were
present also three men with very serious countenances, and one of them
said:--
"Mr. Somerton, I s'pose?"
"Yes, sir. What can I do for you?"
"You can shell out my colt that's in your barn. I was goin' to take him
whether or no, but your wife said you was a square man, an' would do
what was right. Well, there's only one right thing in this case, an'
that's to gimme back my colt."
"There are but two horses in my stable," said Philip. "One of them I've
owned several months, and the other I bought yesterday."
"Who from?"
"From--" Philip took from his pocket the bill of sale and read from it
the signature:--
"James Marney."