Eh? Oh, yes--if they _must_ have it!"
Selwyn frowned slightly.
"But the point is," continued Neergard, "that it borders the railroad on
the north; and where the land is not wavy it's flat as a pancake,
and"--he sank his husky voice--"it's fairly riddled with water. I paid a
thousand dollars for six tests."
"Water!" repeated Selwyn wonderingly; "why, it's dry as a desert!"
"_Underground water_!--only about forty feet on the average. Why, man, I
can hit a well flowing three thousand gallons almost anywhere. It's a
gold mine. I don't care what you do with the acreage--split it up into
lots and advertise, or club the Siowitha people into submission--it's
all the same; it's a gold mine--to be swiped and developed. Now there
remains the title searching and the damnable job of financing
it--because we've got to move cautiously, and knock softly at the doors
of the money vaults, or we'll be waking up some Wall Street relatives or
secret business associates of the yellow crowd; and if anybody bawls
for help we'll be up in the air next New Year's, and still hiking
skyward.
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