"I didn't. But I was so surprised at havin' someone come to the
front door, which they never do, that I didn't know what to say.
He asked if you was to home, and I said you was. Then he said:
'Well, I'll wait for him in here,' and he pushed open the parlor
door and went in. I had it open the least mite, for I thought I saw
a speck of sun comin' through a crack in the blinds and I was goin'
in to close it when the bell rang."
"The idea! Sitting in my parlor!" muttered Uncle Ezra. "I'll get
him out of that. You're sure he ain't a book peddler?"
"He don't seem to have a thing to sell except nerve," said Aunt
Samantha, "and he sure has got plenty of that."
"I'll fix him!" cried Uncle Ezra.
But he proved to he no match for the smooth sharper in the shape of
Larson.
"Did you want to see me?" demanded the crabbed old man.
"I did," answered Larson coolly, as he continued to puff away at
his cigar. "I came to offer you a chance to make twenty thousand
dollars."
"Twenty thousand dollars!" Uncle Ezra nearly lost his breath, he
was so surprised.
"That's what I said! I'm in a position to give you a good chance
to make that much money, and perhaps more. If you will give me half
an hour of your time--"
"Look here!" interrupted Mr. Larabee, "this ain't no lottery scheme;
is it? If it is I want to warn you that I'm a deacon in the church.
I wouldn't go into any lottery unless I was sure I could win. I
don't believe in gambling.
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