Snippet from 'Ira Bournton'

My new story is coming along splendidly.  You know how it is when you get an idea into your head and it springs out into several subplots that all magically link together and beautifully fit into one lovely picture complete with interesting character names?  Neither do I, although this story is close.  Only I am having trouble with character names and linking subplots.
Anyway, here is a bit of Ira Bournton, named after the main character until I can think of a better title for it.  It's set in New England in 1873, by the way, but before you relegate it to the boring, stuffy, old-fashioned category, let me just say that it is a murder mystery and a lot of other things combined.

Orville Gaskey stood looking about the place with a pleasant smile on his pleasant face.  “I suppose,” he said, rolling back on his heels, “that you want an exorbitant price for the place.”  He spoke to a rather fat man beside him who was clad in clothes much too tight for him in such a state of shabbiness that he might have easily been mistaken as a part of the general scenery.

“Five hundred, and it’s yours,” said the fat man, nervously wiping off a stream of greasy perspiration from his glistening forehead.

“That seems a fair price,” said Orville, not mentioning that it was about two hundred dollars less than he had expected to pay.  “It needs a good deal of work, but I suppose that I can spare the money.”

“I’m glad to be shet of the place,” admitted the fat man.  “No one around here wants to buy it.  Hasn’t for thirty odd years.  Ghosts, and all that tom-foolery.  Not that I believe it meself, but it does make it a mighty hard place to sell.”

Mr. Gaskey laughed.  “Well, Mr. Rufer, I don’t believe in ghosts either, and neither does my family.  And we do need a place desperately.  So, I think that this will do nicely, and you need not worry about my wanting to give it back to you.  Any place this secluded must be the source of superstitious stories in a…community such as this.”  He had meant to say ‘backwoods community,’ but thought that he had better not insult Mr. Rufer’s home of a lifetime to his face.

“Done, then,” said Mr. Rufer, extending his hand to Mr. Gaskey.  “Perfect place for a nice little family.”

“I haven’t a nice little family, though,” said Mr. Gaskey with a sigh.  “I have a very large family.  I have ten children, in fact.”

“Like I says, I nice little family,” said Mr. Rufer.  “I have fourteen.”

So, what do you think.  And if any of you can think of a good title for this story, please do tell.
Thanks for reading and God bless!