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Updated: May 10, 2025
"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.
That night, over a game of cards, a finished proposition would doubtless be perfected, and a partnership formed. "What about you?" Fluss did say. "Who? Me?" asked Carson inelegantly. "Oh, I'm sorry, but I can't go in with you. I'm going right on through to the coast. Oklahoma isn't healthy for me for a couple of months.
There was an exclamation from the dark-eyed man. "Just what I was telling Jack this morning," he chortled. "Buy a farm, for farming purposes only, from some old lady. Pay her a good price, but get your land in the oil section. Old lady happy, we strike oil, sell out to big company, everybody happy. Simple, after all. Good schemes always are." Jack Fluss grunted derisively.
"All this comes from trying to do business with women. You had as good as passed us your word that you'd sell to us, and see what's happened. However, women don't know nothing about ethics. Come on, Fluss." He was too disappointed and angry to notice the slip of his tongue, but Fluss flushed a brick red. "Just one minute," said Mr. Richard Gordon, blocking the doorway.
"We're in a hurry," broke in Fluss. "Sign this, ladies, and my partner and I will pay you the cash and get on to the next town. You can answer this gentleman's questions after we're gone." "I suppose there is a mortgage?" asked Mr. Gordon, ignoring Fluss altogether. "Five hundred dollars," answered Miss Hope. "We had to give a mortgage to get along after Father died."
He did not shift his position, but his keen eyes followed every movement of the rascally pair. He said afterward that he was afraid of gun play. "Oh oh, my goodness!" stammered Miss Hope. "I can't seem to think." "You don't have to, Madam," Fluss assured her, his immaculate gray tie under one ear and his clothing rumpled from the heat and excitement. "Sell us your farm.
Bob peeped over his paper and saw the dark-eyed man spring from his seat and hurry across the aisle where a large, fat, jovial-looking individual was puffing contentedly on a cigarette. "Cal Blosser!" boomed the big man in a voice heard over the car. "Well, well, if this isn't like old times! Glad to see you, glad to see you. What's that? Jack Fluss with you?
"I beg your pardon," said the one with gray hair Bob remembered that he had been called Fluss "is this the Saunders home place, I believe the natives call it?" He smiled at Betty, showing several gold teeth, and she shrank behind Bob and hid the album under her apron. "Yes," answered Bob civilly. "This is the Saunders farm."
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