At that word Bob gave Ned a nudge, and whispered:
“Did you hear that? Prospecting! He’s after gold, sure!”
“Dry up!” ordered Ned, in a like whisper. “You leave this to Jerry. Whoever heard of gold in a swamp like this?”
“Then it’s diamonds!” hissed Bob.
Ned tried to wither his chum with a look, but Bob evidently had big ideas in his head. He looked triumphantly at his companion.
“I’m glad to know you,” said Jerry to the man. That was polite fiction on his part, but it is a common expression, so we will let it go at that. “I’m Jerry Hopkins, as I told you,” he went on, “and these are my friends, Bob Baker and Ned Slade.”
“Glad to know you all,” responded Mr. Fussel. “I’d shake hands only I’m pretty dirty,” he went on, showing his palms, covered with the yellow clay. “Sorry I tried to order you off your own land,” and he laughed, but it was rather forced. “Mistakes will happen,” he continued. “And so this is the Hopkins strip? I guess you know our company has tried to purchase it from your mother,” and he looked at Jerry.
“Yes. She said something about it,” Jerry replied.
“I haven’t anything to do with that part of it,” went on Mr. Fussel. “I’m only connected with the field forces—the prospecting line.”
“Then you’re from the Universal Plaster Company?” asked Jerry.