Big Daddy had a plan.

He drove out to Two Bucks in the Caddy, with his checkbook in the inside pocket of his second-best blue blazer. No point in appearing overdressed.

As soon as the Caddy’s tires scraped the gravel lot, Buddy came out of the boxcar dripping with fresh doe’s blood. Big Daddy gulped, but he was made of sterner stuff than his delicate Baby Girl.

“How much?” he demanded, in lieu of a greeting.

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Buddy was nonplussed. “How much what?”

“How much to buy your place?”

Big Daddy believed that money is the answer to any problem.

TO BE CONTINUED…