e murmured gratefully, gulping it down in one
long swallow while Fluss shook his head impatiently in answer to
Betty's mute interrogation. "My, that tasted good," Blosser added,
handing back the glass. "I don't suppose you know whether your aunts
want to sell?" he shot at Bob. "Must be kind of hard for them to run
the farm all alone."

"Well, it was," admitted Bob, with a misleading air of confidence.
"Hereafter, of course, they'll have me to help."

He did not know whether it would be wise to say any more or not; but
he could not resist one thrust.

"I suppose in time they will sell," he observed carelessly. "The farm
is sure to be bought up by some oil company."

Blosser and Fluss scowled darkly and looked at Bob with closer
attention.

"I didn't know the old ladies had a nephew," said Fluss suspiciously.
"Funny they didn't mention it when I was driving through here last
spring, listing properties, eh?"

"I never knew my aunts to confide personal and private affairs to
strangers," said Bob calmly.

Blosser turned on him angrily.

"You're fresh!" he snarled. "If you knew what was for your own good,
you'd keep a civil tongue in your head. Come on--er--Elmer, we're
wasting time with this kid. We'll come back and talk to the aunts."

Fluss still lingered. His gray eyes appraised Bob keenly and
something in their steady, disconcerting stare made Betty uneasy.

"What's happened to the town?" demanded Fluss abruptly. "Couldn't
find even the oldest inhabitant hanging around the station. Everybody
gone to a funeral?"

"There's a big oil fire," returned Bob. "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? Traveling
round to list farms as I do, I just naturally make a study of the
sections. If ever I saw a poor risk, it's this place; there ain't an
inch of oil sand on it."

Betty's hand on his arm telegraphed Bob not to argue.

"You may be right," the boy replied indifferently. "We won't quarrel
over that."

There was nothing more to be said, and the two men turned away,
Blosser putting the cards down on the step with the curt wish that
"You'd hand those to your aunts and tell 'em we'll drop in again in a
couple of days."