ago, and-"
"But my dear Frank! That was entirely different. I had a chance to buy land-leases. The real thing, not merely wild promises on paper."
"Well, I'll know better next time," I said. "You could have got in on the ground floor, huh, Stape?"
It was his favorite topic, the one thing he'd really talk to you about instead of jabbing you with the needle. Once you got him on the subject of oil and this town where he'd managed his first store, he was a different guy entirely.
"… you never saw anything like it, Frank. Nominally, it was the sorriest land in the world. Rocky, eroded, worn out. Then, the boom came and these poor farmers-people who actually hadn't had enough to eat a few months before-were suddenly rich beyond their wildest dreams. Why, I personally know of one little eighty-acre plot that went for a million and a half dollars, and-"
I whistled, wonderingly, cutting in on him; sliding in one of the questions I wanted to ask. "I don't suppose they all cashed in that heavy though, did they? I mean, some of 'em probably sold out too early or-"
"That's right. That's right, Frank. It just seemed too good to be true, you know. In a great many instances, the first lease hound that came along and shook forty or fifty or a hundred grand under a farmer's nose-"
"Cash?" I whistled again. "You mean they actually swung that much cash at 'em?"
"Oh, yes, and even much larger sums. The psychological effect, you know; and then these people were poorly educated and inclined to be suspicious of banks. Cash they understood. A check-well, that to them was nothing more than a piece of paper."
"What about the people like that, anyway?" I said. "I'll bet a lot of them didn't know what the hell to do with the money after they got it."
"True. Oh, so true, Frank. You or I, now-if I were ever able to get my hands on any substantial sum…" He broke off, sighing, and dipped into the soup again. "Yes, Frank. It was an experience that might have permanently embittered a man of a less philosophical turn of mind. Here was poor little me, filled with appreciation for the finer things in life yet lacking the money to achieve them. And here were these loutish creatures with scads of money and no appreciation whatsoever. Why, in case after case, they wouldn't even buy themselves the necessities of life. They simply went on living as they always had, and hoarded their tens of thousands."
I grinned. "I'll bet that really did burn you, Stape. You right in the middle of all that cabbage, and not being able to latch onto it."
"Oh, I tried, Frank," he nodded, seriously. "I tried, oh, so terribly hard. But I'm afraid Iwas a little green and callow in those days. A trifle clumsy. The only result of my efforts was a sudden transfer to another store."
I had another round of drinks while he was finishing his snack. Then he left for his hotel, and I started for home. I still hadn't eaten anything, but I was feeling pretty good. The talk with Staples had warmed me back up on the deal.
No, I didn't really know anything. All I had to go on was the few things that Mona remembered, or thought she remembered, and the little that she'd picked up from the old woman's remarks. But all in all, and taken with what Staples had told me, it seemed to add up.
They'd lived down south at one time-Mona and the old woman and some other people she couldn't remember: her own folks, I figured. It must have been the south or southwest, because it was warmer and things stayed green longer-_she remembered, or thought she did_. And there'd been towers-oilfield derricks- and… And that was about all, as much as she could tell me. Why they'd come up here to settle down, I didn't know; so there was kind of a hole in the picture there. But I didn't see that it was too important, and the rest was solid enough.
Oil had been struck on their farm down south. The old woman had sold out for a hundred grand. Or maybe she'd got even more, and was just hoarding the hundred grand.
"But my dear Frank! That was entirely different. I had a chance to buy land-leases. The real thing, not merely wild promises on paper."
"Well, I'll know better next time," I said. "You could have got in on the ground floor, huh, Stape?"
It was his favorite topic, the one thing he'd really talk to you about instead of jabbing you with the needle. Once you got him on the subject of oil and this town where he'd managed his first store, he was a different guy entirely.
"… you never saw anything like it, Frank. Nominally, it was the sorriest land in the world. Rocky, eroded, worn out. Then, the boom came and these poor farmers-people who actually hadn't had enough to eat a few months before-were suddenly rich beyond their wildest dreams. Why, I personally know of one little eighty-acre plot that went for a million and a half dollars, and-"
I whistled, wonderingly, cutting in on him; sliding in one of the questions I wanted to ask. "I don't suppose they all cashed in that heavy though, did they? I mean, some of 'em probably sold out too early or-"
"That's right. That's right, Frank. It just seemed too good to be true, you know. In a great many instances, the first lease hound that came along and shook forty or fifty or a hundred grand under a farmer's nose-"
"Cash?" I whistled again. "You mean they actually swung that much cash at 'em?"
"Oh, yes, and even much larger sums. The psychological effect, you know; and then these people were poorly educated and inclined to be suspicious of banks. Cash they understood. A check-well, that to them was nothing more than a piece of paper."
"What about the people like that, anyway?" I said. "I'll bet a lot of them didn't know what the hell to do with the money after they got it."
"True. Oh, so true, Frank. You or I, now-if I were ever able to get my hands on any substantial sum…" He broke off, sighing, and dipped into the soup again. "Yes, Frank. It was an experience that might have permanently embittered a man of a less philosophical turn of mind. Here was poor little me, filled with appreciation for the finer things in life yet lacking the money to achieve them. And here were these loutish creatures with scads of money and no appreciation whatsoever. Why, in case after case, they wouldn't even buy themselves the necessities of life. They simply went on living as they always had, and hoarded their tens of thousands."
I grinned. "I'll bet that really did burn you, Stape. You right in the middle of all that cabbage, and not being able to latch onto it."
"Oh, I tried, Frank," he nodded, seriously. "I tried, oh, so terribly hard. But I'm afraid Iwas a little green and callow in those days. A trifle clumsy. The only result of my efforts was a sudden transfer to another store."
I had another round of drinks while he was finishing his snack. Then he left for his hotel, and I started for home. I still hadn't eaten anything, but I was feeling pretty good. The talk with Staples had warmed me back up on the deal.
No, I didn't really know anything. All I had to go on was the few things that Mona remembered, or thought she remembered, and the little that she'd picked up from the old woman's remarks. But all in all, and taken with what Staples had told me, it seemed to add up.
They'd lived down south at one time-Mona and the old woman and some other people she couldn't remember: her own folks, I figured. It must have been the south or southwest, because it was warmer and things stayed green longer-_she remembered, or thought she did_. And there'd been towers-oilfield derricks- and… And that was about all, as much as she could tell me. Why they'd come up here to settle down, I didn't know; so there was kind of a hole in the picture there. But I didn't see that it was too important, and the rest was solid enough.
Oil had been struck on their farm down south. The old woman had sold out for a hundred grand. Or maybe she'd got even more, and was just hoarding the hundred grand.
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