to betray lack of conservatism, for he said, with admirable
restraint:

"Likely-lookin' lot of trinkets, eh, Bud?"

Bud grunted. After a moment he inquired of Gray, "How much is that
hull lot wuth, Mister?"

"Close to a hundred thousand dollars."

Brother and sister exchanged glances; the father considered
briefly, smilingly, then he said, "With oil at three an' a
quarter, it wouldn't take long for a twelve-hundred bar'ler to get
the hull caboodle, would it?" "Is your well producing twelve
hundred barrels a day?"

"Huh!" Briskow, junior, grinned at his sister, exposing a mouth
full of teeth as white and as sound as railroad crockery, but his
next words were directed at Gray: "We got _four_ wells and the
p'orest one is makin' twelve hundred bar'l."

The guests' mental calculations as to the Briskow royalties were
interrupted by an announcement that dinner was ready, whereupon
the father announced:

"Mister, it looks like you'd have to stay overnight with us,
'cause I got important business after dinner an' I wouldn't trust
Ma to pick out no jewelry by herself--them prices would skeer her
to death. We're ignorant people and we ain't used to spendin'
money, so it'll take time for us to make up our minds. Kin you