"That is bad for you, Dillworth, to sit here and brood over a thing like this. Plans will come to you that include 'hell's work'; this is no thing for you to handle. Put it into my hands."
The man cleared his throat with that bit of nervous laugh.
"How do you mean—into your hands?" he said.
"Sell me the lawsuit," replied Abner.
Dillworth sat back in his chair at that and covered his jaw with his hand, and for a good while he was silent.
"But it is these lands I want, Abner, not the money for them."
"I know what you want," said Abner, "and I will agree to give you a proportion of all the lands that I recover in the suit."
"It ought to be a large proportion, then, for the suit is won."
"As large as you like," said Abner.
Dillworth got up at that and walked about the porch. One could tell the two things that were moving in his mind: That Abner was, in truth, the man to carry the thing through—he stood well before the courts and he was not afraid; and the other thing—How great a proportion of the lands could he demand? Finally he came back and stood before the table.
"Seven-eights then. Is it a bargain?"
"It is," said Abner. "Write out the contract."
A negro brought foolscap paper, ink, pens and a
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