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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Now look, I'll raise the fifty G's by the end of the week." Feisel lifted a thin black eyebrow and shrugged elaborately. "Just inquiring, my friend, just inquiring. You know just showing friendly interest." "Well, go peddle your papers to somebody else. You make me nervous." Feisel sniffed with injured pride. "That's gratitude for you. And just when I was going to put a little bee in your bonnet.
I thought you'd like to know what happened to another guy just like you. You see, he got ideas, instead of digging to get his quota. He tried to lam out and you know where they found him? On the sidewalk below his twenty-third-floor window." As Feisel went out, Philon swore softly at his retreating back. But Feisel's little story sent a chill through him.
"I have a great mind to begin my studies with an examination of the geological mysteries of this Mount Seffel Feisel what do you call it?" "Sneffels, my dear sir." This portion of the conversation took place in Latin, and I therefore understood all that had been said. I could scarcely keep my countenance when I found my uncle so cunningly concealing his delight and satisfaction.
In the late afternoon a whip from party headquarters dropped in. "Hello, Feisel," Philon said with little enthusiasm for the swarthy-faced man. Without even the formality of a greeting Feisel smiled down at Philon in a half-sneer. "Well, Philon, how we doin' with the fifty grand, eh?" Philon tossed a sheaf of papers on the desk with a gesture of impatience.
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