Andy came out, a little grudgingly, it seemed, and the man moved forward to meet him.
When the man returned his face had a reddish look and his voice was a little controlled and stiff. “Halloran tells me you’ve put an injunction on my work up there?” He moved his hand toward the cliff.
Uncle William held up his net and squinted at it. “We-l-l,” he said slowly, “we told ’em they better not do any more building—not till you come.” He looked at him mildly.
There was silence on the beach. The galls sailed overhead and the waves lapped softly, rippling up and back, with little salt washes. Uncle William looked about him with contented gaze. “We don’t really need a hotel on the Island, Mr. Carter—not really,” he said slowly.
The man looked at him a moment. Then he sat down on the keg, adjusting his weight nicely. “I understand your feeling, Mr. Benslow, I understand it perfectly—and it’s natural. But you don’t foresee, as I do, what a hotel will do for this Island. I’ve had experience in these matters, and I can tell you that in three years—” he looked about him proudly, “you wouldn’t know the place!”
Uncle William cast a quick glance at the cliff—“I don’t suppose I should,” he said hastily.
“And as for values—” The man’s hand swept the horizon. “You could sell at your own price. I’m really doing you a favor, Mr. Benslow—” he leaned toward him, “if you had foresight.”
“Yes, I reckon it takes foresight,” said Uncle William. He looked at him mildly. “I might just as well tell ye, Mr. Carter—you can’t build no hotel—not up here. You can build down ’t the village, if you want to,” he added.
“In that hole—?” The man looked at him cynically. “Do you think anybody would board in that hole?”
“I shouldn’t want to myself,” admitted William, “but folks are different—some folks are different.”
The man rose to his feet. “I shall be sorry to have any ill feeling with you, Mr. Benslow. But you can’t expect me to sacrifice my plans—not unless you are willing to buy the place yourself.” He dropped a narrow eye on him for a minute.
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Uncle William cordially.
The man smiled a little. “What would you consider it worth?” he asked pleasantly.
“Well—” Uncle William considered, “I do’ ’no’ just what ’tis worth. We paid Andy two thousand for it.”