"Well, you
got me, Chief, right under the guard," he observed.
Ingolby did not laugh outright, but there was a bubble of humour in his
eyes. "What happened to the watch?" he asked.
"I got rid of it."
"In a horse-trade?"
"No, I got a town lot with it."
"In Lebanon?"
"Well, sort of in Lebanon's back-yard."
"What's the lot worth now?"
"About two thousand dollars!"
"Was it your first town lot?"
"The first lot of Mother Earth I ever owned."
"Then you got a vote on it?"
"Yes, my first vote."
"And the vote let you be a town-councillor?"
"It and my good looks."
"Indirectly, therefore, you are a landowner, a citizen, a public servant,
and an instrument of progress because of Felix Marchand. If you hadn't
had the watch you wouldn't have had that town lot."
"Well, mebbe, not that lot."
Suddenly Ingolby got to his feet and squared himself, and his face became
alight with purpose. His mind had come back from fishing, and he was
ready now for action. His plans were formed. He was in for a fight, and
he had made up his mind how, with the new information to his hand, he
would develop his campaign further.
"You didn't make a fuss about the watch, Jowett.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25