Panel. At any time, if you have reason to change your
mind, I shall be glad to talk business with you."
Uncle Jap returned to his own hotel to pass a restless night. Next day
he sought a certain rich man who had a huge ranch in our county. The
rich man, let us call him Dives, had eaten Uncle Jap's figs, and taken
his advice, more than once, about cattle.
"Who's a-buyin' oil lakes?" demanded Uncle Jap.
"Nathaniel Leveson."
"Who else?"
Dives eyed Uncle Jap keenly. Rich men don't tell all they know,
otherwise they would not be rich. Still, those figs and that water-
melon on a broiling July afternoon had tasted uncommonly good!
"Look here, Mr. Panel, I think I can guess what has happened. Somebody
has tried to squeeze you--eh?"
"That's so."
"Um! You're not the first."
"I wan't squeezed."
"Not yet, but----Mr. Panel, I should like to do you a service, and I
know you to be an intelligent man. Do you see this sheet of blotting-
paper?"
The blotting-paper lay immaculate upon the desk. Dives took a clean
quill, dipped it into ink, and held it poised over the white pad.
Uncle Jap watched him with interest.
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