Читать книгу The Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald онлайн

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“My land?”

“The railroad wants to build on the twenty acres just this side of the river, where your warehouse stands. If you’ll let them have it cheap we get our station; if not, we can just whistle into the air.”

Jackson nodded.

“I see.”

“What price?” asked MacDowell mildly.

“No price.”

His visitor’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“That from you?” he demanded.

John Jackson got to his feet.

“I’ve decided not to be the local goat anymore,” he announced steadily. “You threw out the only fair, decent plan because it interfered with some private reservations of your own. And now that there’s a snag, you’d like the punishment to fall on me. I tear down my warehouse and hand over some of the best property in the city for a song because you made a little ‘mistake’ last year!”

“But last year’s over now,” protested MacDowell. “Whatever happened then doesn’t change the situation now. The city needs the station, and so”—there was a faint touch of irony in his voice—“and so naturally I come to its leading citizen, counting on his well-known public spirit.”