“How much have people put into this company of yours?”
“Right smart,” he said cryptically. “What with my folks and my wife’s folks an’ our party—had to give them a look in—only fair. But we’re goin’ to keep it among ourselves ’s much as possible. They ain’t any of us rich, not now, but”—he smiled a pale, pale smile all to himself, that seemed to say the future was beyond peradventure golden. “We all been workin’ people,” he said, grave again as ever. “But we’ve all saved a little somethin’.”
“And you’re putting your savings into this?”
“Every cent. We know $250 put into Blumpitty & Co.’s this spring’ll be a thousand ’fore long.” Instead of rejoicing, he sighed. “We’ve worked mighty hard, but we got our chance now.” He rested on the thought a moment. “They’s a fortune fur us up on Glaysher Crick—’nough fur us all.” His pale eyes seemed inadvertently to take in Mrs. Mar.
That lady presented her most baffling surface. Absolutely nothing you could take hold of. Whether her aspect discouraged Mr. Blumpitty or not, certainly he seemed to have no more conversation.
Mrs. Mar was obliged herself to break the silence. “So you’re pretty well satisfied, anyhow.”
“Ya-as,” he said, “if only I can keep out o’ the hands o’ the fy-nance-eers.”
“What’s to prevent you?”
“Oh, I guess it’s all right”—but his look was dubious. “I got a good many mouths to feed an’ a lot o’ developin’ to do.”
“You mean you haven’t got enough capital.” She felt she had caught him. She was both disappointed and rather relieved.