“Well—no, not just this minute. Perhaps if you'll call—”
“No, I will not call later. My motto is 'Do it now.' Seeing that you're regularly in the business of dispensing legal advice, I'd like to take advantage of the ever-active present.” He pulled from his hip pocket a tattered wallet and produced a hundred-dollar bill. “Mr. Dunstan, how much expert legal advice can you give me for that?”
Dunstan's manner underwent a swift metamorphosis. “Oh, put back your money, boy. I have an hour to spare this morning, and for your father's sake my advice to you will always be given gratis on Mondays and Fridays.”
“Glad I called on Friday, even if it is an unlucky day. Your generosity knocks that superstition galley-west, so I'll take you at your word. Also I will gladly retain this century. To tell the truth I have urgent need of it for other things,” and he followed Dunstan into the latter's private office. Dunstan indicated an easy chair and presented his ex-assistant with a fifty-cent cigar.
“Well, Bobby, my boy, what's on your soul this morning?”
“A very heavy weight, Mr. Dunstan. Desert land. Acres and acres of it.”
“Any water?”
“Not yet.”
“Any prospect?!”
“I have it bottled up, and it's all mine. Now I want the land.”