He stretched and walked to the main road, taking the track along the
rocks and then though the woods. He had left the Jeep in the approach
area by the gate-house; the park was officially closed. A piece of
paper was folded under one windshield wiper. It had a heart on it,
drawn in pencil. When he got home, he taped it over the mantel.
Myron read through the application the next day and tapped his desktop
slowly. "The co-owner," he said, "will have full privileges."
"Right."
"If she calls and identifies herself and says, "Myron, sell everything
and send me a check," that's what I'll do."
"Right."
"Very good," Myron said dubiously. "Just making sure." He put the
application and the check in a folder. "So, how quick do you want to
get rich?"
"That's a trick question, I bet," Oliver said.
Myron appraised him again. "It is and it isn't," he said. "Rewards are
what you get for taking risk. If you want a big reward right away, you
have to take a big risk. Over a longer period, you can take smaller
risks--the smaller rewards add up; the smaller losses don't wipe you
out. But there's another consideration." He drew a double headed arrow
on the top of a yellow pad.
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