Waterson plainly did not want to show Gideon the map, but he could hardly refuse. He spread it out on Gideon’s desk. It was an impressive piece of work. Gideon doubted that finding oil was as simple as locating it on a map, but he pretended to be mollified. “It looks like a prime location. The Texas Company,” he mused, reading it on the map. “Is that Texaco?”

“Yes, it is,” Waterson said.

Gideon nodded sagely. “Well, then, I suppose you’re in a hurry for this contract.”

“We were hoping you could have it done today.”

“How long would you like the option period to be?”

Coleman shrugged. “Thirty days should be adequate.”

“Thirty days?” Waterson protested. “You said a week at most.”

“Thirty days is the minimum for a contract like this, but of course you are free to close the sale sooner than that,” Gideon explained.

Waterson didn’t look happy, but he could see Coleman was set on this, so he agreed.

Gideon told them to come back in a few hours, by which time Smith would have drawn up the document and Gideon would have done his due diligence.

When the two men returned at the end of the workday to sign the papers, Gideon could see they had spent the interim at a saloon. They were quite pleased with themselves.

“I took the liberty of telephoning the local offices of both Standard Oil and the Texas Company to verify that those companies do own the adjoining property,” Gideon told them. He wasn’t sure this would please Waterson, but he had only been protecting his client.

“You see, Waterson, this is why I like Bates so much. He takes good care of my interests,” Coleman said.

“I don’t know why you felt that was necessary,” Waterson said, a little affronted, “but I’m sure you discovered that they do own the property.”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” He’d also discovered that they had made no efforts to develop it and seemed ignorant of the vast oil deposits shown on Waterson’s map. He didn’t think mentioning that would serve any purpose, though. He wouldn’t lie, but if no one asked . . .

“Good, good,” Waterson said, not asking anything at all.

“We just need your earnest-money payment, Mr. Coleman,” Gideon said.

“A thousand, wasn’t it?” Coleman asked, reaching for his wallet.

Gideon would not have been surprised to be paid in boodle, which was a wrapped stack of bills with real money on the top and bottom and the rest blank paper, but Coleman gave him ten one-hundred-dollar bills. Then both men signed the contract, although Gideon figured neither was using his legal name, so the whole thing was certainly unenforceable.

“We will hold the contract and the earnest money for thirty days or until you close the sale on the property,” Gideon explained. “If Mr. Coleman purchases the property as agreed, he will be refunded the earnest money. If he does not, it will be payable to you, Mr. Waterson.”