Another minute, and I felt more chipper. West of town, two ’r three fellers was walkin’ ’round, stakin’ out the mesquite. And nigh the station, ’twixt them and me, was a brand-new, hip-roofed shanty with a long black-and-white sign acrosst it. The sign said “Real Estate.” Wal, that looked like business!
I bulged in. They was a’ awful dudey feller inside, settin’ at a table and makin’ chicken-tracks on a big sheet of blue paper. “Howdy,” I says, “you must be one of them Chicago gents?”
He jumped up and shook hands. “Yas, I am,” he says; “but only a land-agent, y’ savvy. They’s three others in town that’s got capital. The one that lives over yonder at the hotel is a millionaire. Then they’s a doctor (left a fine practice to come), and a preacher. But the preacher ain’t just one of you’ ord’nary pulpit pounders.”
I stooped over to git a look at that sheet of blue paper. It had lines all criss-cross on it, same as a checker-board, and little, square, white spots showin’ now and again.
“Excuse me fer astin’,” I says, “but what’s this?”
“This is the new map of Goldstone,” he says, “and drawed two mile square. Here”–pointin’ to a white spot–“’ll be the Normal College, and here”–pointin’ to another–“the Merchants’ Exchange. Then, a-course, the Pavilion fer Indus’tral Exhibitions––”
“Pardner,” I broke in, “if Goldstone was in the middle ’r east part of Oklahomaw, where crops is allus fine, this boom wouldn’t surprise me a little bit. But out this way, where they’s only a show fer cattle, I cain’t just understand it. Now, they must be some reason.”
The real estate agent, he smiled awful sly like, and wunk. “Mebbe,” he says.
Later on, I seen the gent that was stoppin’ at the hotel. He was tonier’n the other. Wore one of them knee coats that’s got a wedge outen it, right in front, and two buttons fastened in the small of the back. He was walkin’ up and down the porch and smokin’ a seegar. Rich? Wal, I guess! Had the finest room in the house, and et three six-bit meals a day! About fifty, he was, and kinda porky; not a tub, y’ savvy, but plenty fat.
That same day, a new Tarantula come out. In it was a piece haided “More Capital Fer Goldstone.” It went on like this: “Our City has lately acquired four new citizens whose confidence and belief in her future ’d put some of the old hangers-on and whiners to the blush if they faces wasn’t made of brass, and didn’t know how to blush. Wake up,” goes on the Tarantula, “wake up, Goldstone, and shake you’self. And gents, here’s a hearty welcome! Give us you’ paw!”