He turned a rather
anxious look from her to the agent.
Chapter Seventeen
Twenty-five thousand. It was out at last, falling like a stone on
the Bradleys' hearts. Nancy could hardly keep the bitter tears
from her eyes. Bert, more hardy, barked out a short laugh. "I'm a
fool to let it go," said the agent frankly; "I'm all tied up with
other things. But I have no hesitation in saying this; you buy it,
put the garden in shape, sit tight for a few years, and I'll turn
it over for you for forty thousand, and throw in my commission!"
"Nix!" said Bert, honestly, "Nothing stirring! It's too big a
proposition for us, we couldn't swing it. It may be all you say,
but I'm raising a family; I can't go into twenty-five-thousand-
dollar deals--"
"I don't see why--" began the agent, unruffled.
"I do!" Bert interrupted him, cheerfully.
"Now look here, Mr. Bradley," said Mr. Rogers, patiently. "Let's
get the real dope on this thing. You want a home. You don't want a
contract-made, cheaply constructed place in some community that
your wife and children will outgrow before they're five years
older! Now, here you get a place that every year is going to
improve.
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