"Well?" he enquired, without seeming to desire a reply.
"Wal?" echoed the gruff voice of the man in the rocker.
"It's done."
"So--I guessed."
The patient amusement in the twinkling eyes of the man in the rocker
was good to see. There was confidence, too, in his regard of the
younger man.
"Can we do it--sure?" he enquired, as the other remained silent.
"Without a worry."
"Then dope it out, boy. The easiest thing in the world is handin' out
dollars on a right enterprise. I don't know nothin' better--except it
is takin' 'em in on the same sort o' play."
Jeffrey Masters smiled more broadly into his friend's good-humored face.
"Five years back, handing out twenty thousand dollars would have given
us a nightmare, even on a right proposition," he said. "It isn't that
way now. Guess we'll sleep on this thing like new-born babes with our
tanks filled right. Nat Williams is out to sell quick, and if we're
bright, it's up to us to buy quick. For twenty thousand dollars," he
proceeded, referring to his figures, "we get his house, barns, corrals,
and all his rolling stock.
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