"No! you don't mean that?" exclaimed the farmer. "My name to it, too?"

"Yes. And it was signed before Caleb Schell the notary public."

"So it was--so it was, boy!" declared the other, suddenly smiting his
knee. "I remember I witnessed Uncle Jeptha's signature once. But that
was way back there in the winter--before he was took sick."

"Yes, sir?" said Hiram, eagerly.

"That was an option on the old farm. So it was. But goodness me, boy,
Pepper must have got him to renew it, or something. That option wouldn't
have run till now."

Hiram told him the date the paper was executed.

"That's right, by Jo! It was in February."

"And it was for a year?"

Mr. Pollock stared at him in silence, evidently thinking deeply.

"If you remember all about it, then," Hiram continued, "it's hardly
worth while going to Mr. Schell, I suppose."

"I remember, all right," said Pollock, slowly. "It was all done right
there in Cale Schell's store. It was one rainy afternoon. There was
several of us sitting around Cale's stove. Pepper was one of us. In
comes Uncle Jeptha. Pepper got after him right away, but sort of on the
quiet, to one side.

"I heard 'em. Pepper had made him an offer for the farm that was 'way
down low, and the old man laughed at him.

"We hadn't none of us heard then the talk that came later about the
railroad. But Pepper has a brother-in-law who's in the office of the
company, and he thinks he gits inside information.

"So, for some reason, he thought the railroad was going to touch
Uncle Jeptha's farm. O' course, it ain't. It's goin' over the river by
Ayertown.

"I don't see what Pepper wants to take up the option for, anyway. Unless
he sees that you're likely to make suthin' out o' the old place, and
mebbe he's got a city feller on the string, to buy it."

"It doesn't matter what his reason is. Mrs. Atterson doesn't want to
sell, and if that option is all right, she must," said Hiram. "And you
are sure Uncle Jeptha gave it for twelve months?"

"Twelve months?" ejaculated Pollock, suddenly. "Why--no--that don't seem
right," stammered the farmer, scratching his head.

"But that's the way the option reads."

"Well--mebbe. I didn't just read it myself--no, sir. They jest says to
me:

"'Come here, Pollock, and witness these signatures' So, I done
it--that's all. But I see Cale put on his specs and read the durn thing
through before he stamped it. Yes, sir. Cale's the carefulest notary
public we ever had