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Gordon to her sister. "These gentlemen, Mr. Snead and Mr. Elmer," she consulted the cards in her hand "have called to see us about selling our farm." Mr. Gordon nodded curtly to the pair whose faces were as black as a thunder-cloud at the interruption. "I'm sure Mr. Gordon will excuse us if we go on with the business," said Blosser smoothly.
"You don't leave this place until you promise to produce that boy." Blosser feigned ignorance, but the attempt deceived no one. "What boy?" he blustered. "You seem bent on stirring up trouble, Stranger." "You know very well what boy," retorted Mr. Gordon evenly.
"That fresh kid we saw with you the other day, back at the Saunders farm," said Blosser, jerking his thumb in the general direction of the three hills. "Is he going to be there long?" Betty did not know whether anything she might say would injure Bob or not, and she wisely concluded that the best plan would be to answer as truthfully as possible. "I suppose he will live there," she said quietly.
"He is their nephew, you know." Fluss looked disgustedly at his companion. "Can you beat that?" he demanded in an undertone. "The kid has to turn up just when he isn't wanted. The old ladies never had a nephew to my knowledge, and now they allow themselves to be imposed on by " A look from Blosser restrained him.
Their two heads were very close together, and they were talking earnestly, their harsh voices clearly audible to any one who sat behind them. "I tell you, Blosser," the older man was saying as Bob unfolded his paper, "it's the niftiest little proposition I ever saw mapped out. We can't fail. Best of all, it's within the law I've been reading up on the Oklahoma statutes.
"Seems to me, there are a lot of unpleasant people out here, after all." "You mean Blosser and Fluss," replied Bob. "I don't know where they went, but I'm certain they are not up to anything good. Still, it isn't fair to say we've come in contact with a lot of unpleasant people, Betty. All new developments have to fight against the undesirable element, Mr. Littell says.
"Four or five wells have been burning a couple of days now, though they say they have it under control." The word "oil" roused Blosser again. "There ain't no oil on this place," he announced heavily. "I've seen a lot of money sunk in dry wells, and what I don't know about the oil country ain't worth mentioning. Isn't that so, George?
I'm sorry, but you can not see them to-day." Blosser took out his handkerchief again and mopped his streaming face. Betty, who would be kind to any one in distress, had gone in for a glass of water and brought it out to him. "Thank you, my dear," he murmured gratefully, gulping it down in one long swallow while Fluss shook his head impatiently in answer to Betty's mute interrogation.
"All right, Sister, I think so, too," she agreed, glad for once not to have to make the decision. "You're sure you are not cheating yourself, Mr. Gordon, by paying us twenty thousand dollars?" Mr. Gordon, who had strolled over to the door leading into the hall, assured her that he was well-satisfied with his bargain. "Well, we'll be going," muttered Blosser.
"I'm glad to see you for more reasons than one," said Blosser, passing around fresh cigars. "Who's behind us, Dan?" He lowered his voice. "Only a kid? Oh, all right. Well, Jack here, has been working on an oil scheme for the last two weeks, and this morning he comes out with the bright idea of giving some desert farmer a lease for his property. Can you get over that?"
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