Larkin folded the newspaper. "He can't be getting that for all of them," he said. Alice nodded. "Probably not." The manager looked out of his office window at the bank parking lot. "I want to see what he's got left."
The following week a dark bank sedan rolled into Earl's driveway. Larkin stepped out in polished shoes that were quickly coated with dust. He looked around at the drying racks, the covered barrels, and the small workshop where Walter and Ray were preparing an order. Everything was cleaner and more organized than the pile of junk he remembered from 1980.
"You've been busy," Larkin said. Earl wiped his hands on a rag. "A fair bit." The manager moved toward a stack of tagged material. "That newspaper made some interesting claims."
Earl said nothing, letting Larkin look. The manager inspected a bundle of staves and touched a polished sample. "You wouldn't be interested in selling the remaining stock back to the bank?" he asked. Earl was surprised enough to stop working.
"Why would the bank want it?" he asked. Larkin smiled, but there was less amusement in it than before. "We may have a buyer. Or we may want to preserve the option of marketing the inventory ourselves." Earl glanced toward the office where his customer orders were recorded.
"I've already promised material to people," Earl said. "I can't take it away from them because you've changed your mind." Larkin spread his hands.
"I'll pay more than seven hundred and fifty. Considerably more." Earl nodded. "You'd have to. But I'm not selling back the stock I've committed to customers."
The manager seemed to have expected bargaining rather than refusal. He made a larger offer, then asked whether Earl had counted how much money he could receive immediately instead of preparing and selling the oak piece by piece. Earl had counted it. He had also counted the repeat orders, the reputation, the wages he was paying, and the protection the venture provided against another poor crop year.
"I'm grateful for the offer," Earl said. "But I'm going to finish the work I've begun." Larkin stared at him.
"You might be passing up a great deal of money." Earl met his eyes. "I might. That was true the day I bought them, too."
Larkin left without a contract. His tires threw a little gravel onto the grass as he turned toward the road. Walter watched the car disappear and asked why Earl had refused to name a price high enough to make the bank go away. Earl returned to the bench and inspected the stave he'd been holding.
"Because I don't know a fair price for breaking my word," he said. "And I don't want to learn by trying it." Walter considered that. Then he picked up the next piece of oak and went back to work.