But how about the poor
devils that put in their time and money?"
Florence Grace Hallman spread her hands in a limited gesture
because of the reins, and smiled unpleasantly. "And yet, you
nearly broke your neck filing on the land yourself and
getting a lot of your friends to file," she retorted. "What
was your object, Mr. Green--since the land is worthless?"
"My object don't matter to anyone but myself." Andy busied
himself with his smoking material and did not look at her.
"Oh, but it Does! It matters to me, Mr. Green, and to my
company, and to our clients."
"I'll have to buy me a new dictionary," Andy observed
casually, reaching behind him to scratch a match on the skirt
of his saddle. "The one I've got don't say anything about
'client' and 'victim' meaning the same thing. It's getting
all outa date."
"I brought enough clients--" she emphasized the word--" to
settle every eighty acres of land in that whole tract. The
policy of the company was eminently fair. We guaranteed to
furnish a claim of eighty, acres to every person who joined
our homeseekers' Club, and free pasturage to all the stock
they wanted to bring. Failing to do that, we pledged
ourselves to refund the fee and pay all return expenses. We
could have located every member of this lot, and more--only
for YOU.
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