Dick smiled pleasantly, but made no answer.
“I’ll give you just two thousand dollars for that option.”
“I can do better than that,” replied the boy, politely.
“How can you?” asked the stout man, incredulously.
“A syndicate has been formed to buy that property for speculative purposes.”
“What?” gasped the real estate man, staring hard at Dick.
“That’s right. I don’t mind telling you how I came to buy the land. My business takes me down to Sodom once a week. I knew the Durwood property was in the market, and I have a very clear idea of its value. As soon as I got the tip that speculators were after it, I made up my mind to scoop the ground myself if I could get it low enough. I made Mr. Durwood a cash offer, and we came to an agreement. Mr. Nesbitt will examine the title in a few days, and if everything is all right he will close the deal as trustee for me. That’s all there is to it.”
“How did you learn about this syndicate and who are the men that compose it?” asked the stout man, with ill-disguised eagerness.
“You will have to excuse me answering those questions, Mr. Blake,” replied Dick, looking at the man’s card, which he held in his hand.
“Then you won’t accept an offer of twenty-five hundred for your option?” said the visitor.