He held out the two bits of pasteboard and Betty, looking over Bob's shoulder, was astonished to read, not "Cal Blosser" and "Jack Fluss," but "Irving Snead" and "George Elmer." Each card, in the lower left-hand corner, was lettered "The West Farm Agency."
Bob controlled whatever he was feeling, and handed back the cards very politely.
"My aunts are both very ill," he said courteously. "They are under the doctor's care, and it will be impossible for them to see any one for several weeks."
"But some one must be in charge," urged Blosser, or Irving Snead, as he seemed to prefer to be known. "Isn't there some older person about?"
"Miss Gordon and I"—Betty thought that had a very nice sound as Bob said it—"are taking care of them. It is hard to get help of any kind because of the demand for workers at the fields and in Flame City. If we can do anything for you—"
"You can't!" Fluss broke in sharply. "It's very annoying not to be able to see the Misses Saunders. We've come a good many miles, thinking this place might suit one of our customers. He has a delicate daughter, and he wants to get her out on a farm. This part of Oklahoma ought to be beneficial for lung trouble. I suppose the
