e automatically took up the pen.

"Have you read that agreement?" demanded Mr. Gordon sharply. "Do you
know what you are signing? I'd like to know the purchase price. I'm
representing Bob's interest."

"Oh, Bob!" Miss Hope and Miss Charity both turned from the paper
toward the speaker. "We think the money will put Bob through
school--a whole thousand dollars, Mr. Gordon, and the taxes paid. We
can't run the farm any longer. We can't afford to hire help."

"No farm is sold without a little more trouble than this," announced
Mr. Gordon pleasantly. "You don't mind If I ask you a few questions?"

"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."

"So they've offered you fifteen hundred dollars for an oil farm,"
said Mr. Gordon contemptuously. "Well, don't take it."

"Bob said there was oil here!" cried Miss Charity.

"That's a lie!" snarled Blosser furiously. "You're out of the oil
section by a good many miles. Are you going to turn down a cash offer
for this forsaken dump, simply because a stranger happens along and
tells you there may be oil on it? Bah!"

"Keep your temper," counseled Fluss in a low tone. "Well, rather than
see two ladies lose a sale," he said with forced cheerfulness, "we
will make you an offer of three thousand dollars. Money talks louder
than fair words."

"I'll give you five thousand, cash," Mr. Gordon spoke quietly, but
Betty bounced about on the sofa in delight.

Fluss leaped to his feet and brought his fist smashing down on the
table.

"Six thousand!" he cried fiercely. "We're buying this farm. We'll
give you six thousand dollars, ladies."

"Seven thousand," said Mr. Gordon conversationally. 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. We'll give you ten thousand dollars.
That's the last word. Ten thousand for this mud hole. Here's a
pe