“Yes, that’s the concern.”
“And you say you are—prospecting,” resumed Jerry, hesitating over the word. “Is it for anything special? What line is your company in?”
“There you’ve got me,” admitted Mr. Fussel, with seeming frankness. “I’ve only been with them a short time, and, as far as this present job is concerned, I was only told to make some ditches to drain this land.”
“Oh, then you’re not getting out the clay?” asked Ned, taking a part in the talk.
Mr. Fussel glanced at Ned sharply.
“We’re taking out clay, certainly,” he said, and again he seemed to want to appear very frank and open. “But we have to do that to make the drainage ditches deep enough.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Jerry, and there was considerable meaning in his tones. “Some folks have tried to make use of the clay, but they haven’t succeeded,” went on the tall lad.
“It doesn’t seem to amount to much, that’s a fact,” spoke Mr. Fussel, kicking a lump of the yellow stuff into a nearby puddle of water. “Well, I’m glad to have met you boys, and I want to tell you how sorry I am that I ordered you off.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” responded Jerry, quickly. “We just came out to have a look at the place. I sort of wondered what your company wanted my mother’s land for.”
“And I can’t tell you,” declared Mr. Fussel. “As I said, I have only been with the concern a short time. All I know about the Universal Plaster Company is that it is incorporated to do all sorts of business. It can buy and sell land, erect buildings, manufacture anything it sees fit to, that isn’t protected by patents, and, in short, deal in all sorts of things. It’s one of those corporations with a very liberal charter.