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Updated: September 24, 2025
"I'm going to sell my interest in the Applerod Addition the minute I find a buyer," he declared, "and I'd advise you to do the same." "Don't be foolish," counseled Bobby, frowning. "You can't lose." "But man!" quavered Applerod. "I have four thousand dollars of my own cash, all I've been able to scrape together in a lifetime, tied up in this thing, and I mustn't lose!"
Stone will put entirely out of existence what little there is left of the Brightlight Electric Company." "Cheer up, Applerod, for death must come to us all," encouraged Bobby.
On the next day, kept busy by the preparations for the big opening, Bobby did not get out to the Applerod Addition until evening again. As he neared it he met Silas Trimmer coming back in his buck-board, that false circle around his mouth very much in evidence. "You ought to have had your opening yesterday.
Chalmers, Johnson, and even Applerod wrestled with him in spirit; his friends at the Idlers' Club "guyed" him unmercifully, and even Biff Bates, though his support was earnestly sought by the Signorina Caravaggio, also counseled him roughly against it, and through it all Bobby was made to feel that he was a small boy who had proposed to eat a peck of green apples and then go in swimming in dog-days.
"Just put on your hat and go right over to Barrister," directed Johnson; "and take a blank check with you. I'll telephone him, to save time for you. The stock is worth par, and that lonesome fifty shares will be snapped up before you know it." "You will excuse me till I go up-town, Mr. Burnit?" inquired Applerod, and bustled out eagerly.
That settled it with Bobby. No matter what arguments there might be to the contrary, if Silas Trimmer had his eye on that piece of property, Bobby wanted it. Applerod, though eagerness brought him early, had no sooner entered the study next morning than Bobby, who was already dressed for business and who had his machine standing outside the door, met him briskly.
Not having a good idea he was averse to discussing any project whatsoever, and so, each time that he was consulted upon the subject, he was as evasive as this about it, and Bobby each morning dragged perplexedly into the handsome offices of the defunct Applerod Addition, where Applerod and Johnson were still working a solid eight hours a day to straighten out the affairs of that unfortunate venture.
"The sign went up only yesterday," he stated. "But it is competition. Unfair competition! He is stealing our thunder," protested Applerod. "He has a perfect right to lay out a subdivision if he wants," said Bobby. "But don't worry, Applerod. I've been over there and the thing is a joke.
Early as he was, however, he found young Platt there ahead of him and in despair. He had good cause. The whole north end of the Applerod Addition had turned black, and over the top of Bobby's now grimy cement wall poured a broad, dark sheet of the murky swamp-water which had stained it.
"This letter, Johnson, is only a delicate intimation from the governor that I'll make another blooming ass of myself with this," commented Bobby, tapping his finger on the check, and placing the letter face downward beside it, where he eyed it askance. "A quarter of a million!" observed Applerod, rolling out the amount with relish.
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