“Agent? You mean, you’re going to sell it for somebody else?”

Waterson winced. “That is my mission, yes, but I’ve found it very difficult to make the right contacts here in the city. The wealthy men who might have the means aren’t interested in even seeing me.”

“What you need is somebody to make the contacts for you.”

Waterson’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “And I suppose you’re just the man for the job.”

“As a matter of fact, I am. I’m a stockbroker, so I have lots of clients who might be interested in your land.”

He frowned, still skeptical. “Lots?”

“Well, I have a few, but you only need one, don’t you?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“So can we go somewhere private and you can explain the deal to me? Then I’ll know better if any of my clients would be interested.”

Waterson considered Jake’s offer for a long moment. “I don’t suppose it would hurt anything to explain it to you.”

“We could go up to my office,” Jake offered.

“My hotel is nearby and we can order up some supper,” Waterson countered.

Jake waited while Waterson drained his glass and then followed him out. The hotel was only a block away. It was a small one but elegant. Waterson had a suite and he was as good as his word about ordering supper. He asked for two steak dinners. While they waited, Waterson opened his briefcase and pulled out some maps and other important-looking papers.

The map he spread on the dining table was most impressive. It was, Jake was surprised to note, a map of Texas.

“Is that where you’re from?” Jake asked.

“Oh no. I’m from Philadelphia.”

“And you own land in Texas?”

“Not I, no. As I said, I’m not the owner. I only represent the owners. They hired me to sell the property for whatever I can get for it.”

Jake frowned. He didn’t understand much of the map, but he could clearly see the property in question outlined and a large black lake marked “mother pool” that overlapped a portion of the property. The little triangle shapes scattered over the state were clearly meant to be oil wells, and several of them were located within the property lines. To make the map even more intriguing, the adjoining properties were marked as owned by Standard Oil and the Texas Company, both major producers of gasoline products.

Waterson poured them each a generous measure of whiskey from a decanter on the sideboard, and Jake took a tentative sip. Cheap rotgut, which was probably why he’d put it into a decanter, but Jake said, “Good stuff.”