“All I know is what Dad has told me,” Sandy remarked. “I couldn’t have built the exhibit without Quiz’s help.”
“Forget the mutual-admiration-society stuff,” said Hall. “Would you both like to spend your vacations in the Four Corners, working as roustabouts and helping me out wherever else you can? It won’t be easy. But when you get through you’ll know a lot about oil, geology, how to get along with Indians, and I don’t know what all.
“You’ll be out on the desert in all kinds of weather. You’ll chip rocks, hold stadia rods, sharpen tools and dig the trucks out of holes on those awful roads. Everything you learn will come in handy when you go to college.... You are going, aren’t you?”
Sandy nodded but Quiz shook his head miserably.
“I doubt it,” he said, “unless things at Dad’s restaurant pick up.”
“Nonsense,” Hall snorted. “You can get a scholarship in geology if you’ve had experience in the field. Tell you what: I know your father slightly—he serves mighty good victuals. I’ll go over to Valley View tomorrow and talk things over with him. I’ll bet we can work something out for you.
“Here’s another thing, though,” he went on thoughtfully. “I’ve got almost every cent I own tied up in oil leases right now. I can’t pay either of you very much—say forty dollars a week. You probably can do almost as well right at home.”
“I’d rather work with you than wait on table,” Quiz declared.
“Or cut lawns and things,” Sandy added.
“It’s settled then.” Hall shook hands gravely. “See you in Valley View.”