The new parson and the doc showed up that same afternoon. And I reckon they liked that Court House idear, ’cause they took the north half of the Starvation Gap property straight off.
“The City Park,” they says, “should allus be next the public buildin’s.”
“The City Park,” says Buckshot Milliken, “will likely be further north, right agin the University. I know–fer the reason that they was a meetin’ of the University directors last night. Then, the Farmers’ and Merchants’ Bank is goin’ to be located facin’ the Park, and so is the Grand Op’ra House.”
Porky gave Buckshot a’ awful sharp look. But Buckshot’s a’ Injun when it comes to actin’ innocenter’n a kitten. So then the millionaire gent looked tickled (’cause, just think!–if we was excited a’ready about a boom, what a pile of trouble it’d save him and his pardners!) Wal, he waddled off and hunted ’em up. And that night they purchased ’most all of them north lots–payin’ good.
It was the next mornin’ that they got holt of ole man Sewell and bought the Andrews place. Sewell wasn’t on–he hadn’t been into town since I come from Goldstone. But the real-estate gent was used to puttin’ up a good figger by now, and the boss made a fair haul.
Right off, the Andrews chunk was laid out in fifty-foot lots. It was just rows and rows of white stakes, and when the West-bound was stopped at the deepot fer grub, I seen Bill Rawson pointin’ them stakes out to two poor ole white-haired women. “Ladies,” he says, “that’s the battlefield where Crook fit the Kiowas. Ev’ry stake’s a stiff.”
As the train pulled out, she was tipped all to one side kinda, and runnin’ on her off wheels, ’cause the pass’ngers was herded along the west side of the cars, lookin’ at that big graveyard.
When Hank’s next Eye-Opener come out, one hull side of it was covered with a map of Briggs City–drawed three mile square, so’s to take in what Mrs. Bergin had left. Under the map it said, “The left-hand cross marks the position of the West Oklahomaw Observatory, which is to be built on top of Rogers’s Butte, and the cross in the Andrews Addition marks the spot where the great Sanatarium’ll stand.” (Say! it was gittin’ to be a cold day in Briggs when somebody didn’t start a grand, new institootion!) “Why,” goes on Shackleton, in that piece of hisn, “breathin’ that fine crick-bottom air, and on a plain diet–say, of bread and clabbered milk, a sick person oughta git cured up easy, and a healthy person oughta live more’n a hunderd years.” (Wal, as far as I’m concerned, if I had to eat clabbered milk a hunderd years, I’d ruther die!)
Next thing, two ’r three of the boys got into a reg’lar jawin’-match over some property. Chub Flannagan wanted to start a new paper called the Rip-Saw. Shackleton, a-course, didn’t want he should. Right in front of that real-estate feller’s, Chub drawed a gun on Hank. And Monkey Mike had to interfere ’twixt them.
“I got a right to do what I please on my own land,” yells Chub.