"What's the matter, Ambrose ?" "You should offer them one-seventy-five for their wheat." The eyebrows went up again.

"Why ?" "It's only fair.

Two dollars would be fairer." "But father said one-fifty." "Your father is wrong in this instance." Colina frowned ominously.
"How do you know ?" she demanded.
"I know the price of flour at the different posts," he said deprecatingly.

"I know the risks that must be allowed for and the fair profit one expects." "Do you mean to say that father is unfair ?" she cried.
He was silent.

An unlucky word had betrayed him.