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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Thanks," said Bobby, and whirled out of the door, followed by the disconsolate Applerod. At the office of Miles, Eddy and Company better luck awaited them. Yes, that firm had secured possession of the Westmarsh ninety-two acres. Yes, the property was listed for sale, having been bought strictly for speculative purposes. And its figure? The price was now three hundred dollars per acre.
Burnit to the curb, nor the dignity with which, a few minutes later, he led the way into the office of one Thorne, real-estate dealer. "Mr. Thorne, Mr. Robert Burnit," said Mr. Applerod, hastening straight to business. "Mr. Burnit has come around to close the deal for that Westmarsh property." Mr. Thorne was suavity itself as he shook hands with Mr.
On the day Bobby got the money for his Westmarsh property old Applerod came up from the office of the Brightlight Electric Company, where he held a lazy, sleepy afternoon job as "manager," and with an ingratiating smile handed Bobby a check for five thousand dollars. "What's this for?" asked Bobby, puzzled.
It seemed to Bobby that there was malice in the wrinkles about those eyes, but the address of Mr. Trimmer was most conciliatory. "I have a fuss to pick with you, young man," he said with clumsy joviality. "You beat me upon the purchase of that Westmarsh property. Very shrewd, indeed, Mr. Burnit; very like your father.
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