joined them. The quartette stood in a loose group, smoking their cigars, while an awe-stricken fringe—of which naturally they were unconscious—hung around, silently gathering wisdom. Carstair was an obese and rather pompous man.
"I think well of the property," he stated ponderously, in answer to a question. As a matter of fact he had not thought of the property at all until that morning, when he had come out to oblige his friend and on the strength of free ride, free lunch, and a possibility of free profits. But it would never do to let anybody think that Carstair would take a snap for chicken feed, nor that Carstair would buy anything on impulse, nor without due and weighty deliberation. "Los Angeles," he went on, "is certain to have a great future; and this tract is situated in a particularly fortunate location."
"The soil is excellent," remarked Saxon, solely on the basis of a soft gopher-digging on which he happened to be standing. He stirred it wisely with his cane.
"Ought to grow good oranges here," said Oberman, vaguely. He knew nothing of oranges or their needs; but he did remember seeing orange trees growing out of the ground somewhere. This was also ground.
"You can't do much with one fifty-foot lot," observed Boyd.
"You forget I have the privilege of taking the next two lots at the same price," replied Carstair.
The remark was purely defensive; but a buzz took through the crowd the information that Carstair was buying the adjoining lots as well. Judging now that the conditions were right, the auctioneer again mounted the block.
The bidding started in well. Several lots were sold to outsiders at approximately the same prices. To the surprise of his companions Saxon suddenly began to bid. He procured a lot at two hundred and ten dollars.
"I'll take the rest of the block at the same price, if you'll let it go," he announced. "No use going in unless you get a piece big enough to count as an investment," he told his companions.
The auctioneer pretended to consult for some time with his principal.
