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I could cut a long story short； but I seem to be cutting a short story
long。 If you're not in a hurry； though〃
〃Not in the least。 Go on as long as you like。〃
〃I met him there in the office of a real…estate manspeculator； of
course； everybody was； in Moffitt； but a first…rate fellow； and public…
spirited as all get…out； and when Dryfoos left he told me about him。
Dryfoos was an old Pennsylvania Dutch farmer； about three or four miles
out of Moffitt； and he'd lived there pretty much all his life； father was
one of the first settlers。 Everybody knew he had the right stuff in him；
but he was slower than molasses in January； like those Pennsylvania
Dutch。 He'd got together the largest and handsomest farm anywhere around
there； and he was making money on it； just like he was in some business
somewhere； he was a very intelligent man； he took the papers and kept
himself posted； but he was awfully old…fashioned in his ideas。 He hung
on to the doctrines as well as the dollars of the dads； it was a real
thing with him。 Well； when the boom began to come he hated it awfully；
and he fought it。 He used to write communications to the weekly
newspaper in Moffittthey've got three dailies there nowand throw cold
water on the boom。 He couldn't catch on no way。 It made him sick to
hear the clack that went on about the gas the whole while； and that
stirred up the neighborhood and got into his family。 Whenever he'd hear
of a man that had been offered a big price for his land and was going to
sell out and move into town； he'd go and labor with him and try to talk
him out of it； and tell him how long his fifteen or twenty thousand would
last him to live on； and shake the Standard Oil Company before him； and
try to make him believe it wouldn't be five years before the Standard
owned the whole region。
〃Of course； he couldn't do anything with them。 When a man's offered a
big price for his farm； he don't care whether it's by a secret emissary
from the Standard Oil or not； he's going to sell and get the better of
the other fellow if he can。 Dryfoos couldn't keep the boom out of has
own family even。 His wife was with him。 She thought whatever he said
and did was just as right as if it had been thundered down from Sinai。
But the young folks were sceptical； especially the girls that had been
away to school。 The boy that had been kept at home because he couldn't
be spared from helping his father manage the farm was more like him； but
they contrived to stir the boy upwith the hot end of the boom； too。
So when a fellow came along one day and offered old Dryfoos a cool
hundred thousand for his farm； it was all up with Dryfoos。 He'd 'a'
liked to 'a' kept the offer to himself and not done anything about it；
but his vanity wouldn't let him do that； and when he let it out in his
family the girls outvoted him。 They just made him sell。
〃He wouldn't sell all。 He kept about eighty acres that was off in some
piece by itself； but the three hundred that had the old brick house on
it； and the big barnthat went； and Dryfoos bought him a place in
Moffitt and moved into town to live on the interest of his money。 Just
What he had scolded and ridiculed everybody else for doing。 Well； they
say that at first he seemed like he would go crazy。 He hadn't anything
to do。 He took a fancy to that land…agent； and he used to go and set in
his office and ask him what he should do。 'I hain't got any horses； I
hain't got any cows； I hain't got any pigs； I hain't got any chickens。
I hain't got anything to do from sun…up to sun…down。' The fellow said
the tears used to run down the old fellow's cheeks； and if he hadn't been
so busy himself he believed he should 'a' cried； too。 But most o' people
thought old Dryfoos was down in the mouth because he hadn't asked more
for his farm； when he wanted to buy it back and found they held it at a
hundred and fifty thousand。 People couldn't believe he was just homesick
and heartsick for the old place。 Well； perhaps he was sorry he hadn't
asked more； that's human nature； too。
〃After a while something happened。 That land…agent used to tell Dryfoos
to get out to Europe with his money and see life a little； or go and live
in Washington； where he could be somebody； but Dryfoos wouldn't； and he
kept listening to the talk there； and all of a sudden he caught on。 He
came into that fellow's one day with a plan for cutting up the eighty
acres he'd kept into town lots； and he'd got it all plotted out so…well；
and had so many practical ideas about it； that the fellow was astonished。
He went right in with him； as far as Dryfoos would let him； and glad of
the chance； and they were working the thing for all it was worth when I
struck Moffitt。 Old Dryfoos wanted me to go out and see the Dryfoos &
Hendry Additionguess he thought maybe I'd write it up； and he drove me
out there himself。 Well； it was funny to see a town made： streets driven
through； two rows of shadetrees； hard and soft； planted； cellars dug and
houses put up…regular Queen Anne style； too； with stained glass…all at
once。 Dryfoos apologized for the streets because they were hand…made；
said they expected their street…making machine Tuesday； and then they
intended to push things。〃
Fulkerson enjoyed the effect of his picture on March for a moment； and
then went on： 〃He was mighty intelligent； too； and he questioned me up
about my business as sharp as I ever was questioned； seemed to kind of
strike his fancy； I guess he wanted to find out if there was any money in
it。 He was making money； hand over hand； then； and he never stopped
speculating and improving till he'd scraped together three or four
hundred thousand dollars； they said a million； but they like round
numbers at Moffitt ； and I guess half a million would lay over it
comfortably and leave a few thousands to spare； probably。 Then he came
on to New York。〃
Fulkerson struck a match against the ribbed side of the porcelain cup
that held the matches in the centre of the table； and lit a cigarette；
which he began to smoke； throwing his head back with a leisurely effect；
as if he had got to the end of at least as much of his story as he meant
to tell without prompting。
March asked him the desired question。 〃What in the world for？〃
Fulkerson took out his cigarette and said； with a smile： 〃To spend his
money； and get his daughters into the old Knickerbocker society。 Maybe
he thought they were all the same kind of Dutch。〃
〃And has he succeeded？〃
〃Well； they're not social leaders yet。 But it's only a question of time
generation or twoespecially if time's money； and if Every Other Week
is the success it's bound to be。〃
〃You don't mean to say； Fulkerson；〃 said March； with a half…doubting；
half…daunted laugh； 〃that he's your Angel？〃
〃That's what I mean to say；〃 returned Fulkerson。 〃I ran onto him in
Broadway one day last summer。 If you ever saw anybody in your life；
you're sure to meet him in Broadway again； sooner or later。 That's the
philosophy of the bunco business； country people from the same
neighborhood are sure to run up against each other the first time they
come to New York。 I put out my hand；