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Updated: May 11, 2025
It's only a quarter of a mile. I'll show ye the way and we'll all come over this evening and have a talkin' bee." Samson was pleased and astonished by the look of Brimstead and his home and his family and the account of his success. The man from the sand flats had built a square, two-story house with a stairway and three rooms above it and two below.
"Well, I've offered to pay you and I'm going to make it plain to them that they don't have to worry any more about the money you loaned them." "Very well, I bid you good morning." "Don't be in a hurry," Samson answered. "I have a note of five thousand dollars against you. It is endorsed to me by Henry Brimstead and I want to collect it." "I refuse to pay it," Davis promptly answered.
As he was leaving, Brimstead came close to his side and whispered: "Don't you ever let a city move into you and settle down an' make itself to home. If you do you want to keep your eye on its leading citizens."
Don't it rile ye up to think of a man like that bein' bought and sold and pounded around like a steer? It ain't decent." "It's king work; it isn't democracy," Harry answered. "We've got to put an end to it." "Say, who's that?" Brimstead asked, as he pointed to a pair of horsemen hurrying down the distant road. "It's Biggs and his servant," Harry answered. "Whew!
Then Samson turned to Brimstead and asked: "Look here, Henry Brimstead, are you a drinking man? Honor bright now." "Never drink a thing but water and tea." "Do you know of anybody who'll give ye anything for what you own here?" "There's a man in the next town who offered me three hundred and fifty dollars for my interest." "How far is it?" "Three miles."
Now a little before this time Henry Brimstead and other creditors of Davis had gone to Chicago in the matter of the satisfaction of their judgment against him. Henry had driven a wagon across the prairies and, returning, had brought Bim and her mother to his home and then to Springfield.
"It is possible Bim could get a divorce," said Abe, looking down thoughtfully at the mane of his horse. "I'll ask Stuart what he thinks about it when I see him again." "I hope you'll see him soon." "As soon as I can get to Springfield." Brimstead and Abe had a talk together, while Harry went into the house.
Samson asked, recalling where he had met Eli that morning. Eli explained that he had borrowed money from Davis to tide him over the hard times and was paying twelve per cent. for it. "Dis morning I get dot letter from his secretary," he said as he passed a letter to Samson. It was a demand for payment in the handwriting of the Brimstead note and had some effect on this little history.
Brimstead leaned close to Samson's ear and said in a tone scarcely audible: "My brother Robert has his own idiot asylum. It's a real handsome one an' he has made it pay, but I wouldn't swap with him." Samson smiled, remembering that Robert had a liquor store. "Look here, Henry Brimstead, we're hungry," he said.
Above the door of the barn was a board which bore the stenciled legend: "John Peasley, Orwell Farm." As Samson drew near the house he observed a man working on the roof of a woodshed. Something familiar in his look held the eye of the New Salem man. In half a moment he recognized the face of Henry Brimstead. It was now a cheerful face. Brimstead came down the ladder and they shook hands.
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