By ten woody gates and his band were exhausted there

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Unformatted text preview: been disconnected. An ominous sign. Mr. Klump and his son, Lester Junior, spent days going over the house. They were terrified of the project, and knew it would be a regular nightmare if anybody got in a hurry, especially me. They were slow and methodical, even talked slower than most folks in Ford County, and I soon realized that everything they did was in second gear. I probably didn't help matters by explaining that I was already living in very comfortable quarters on the premises; thus I wasn't going to be homeless if they didn't hurry up. Their reputation was that they were sober and generally finished on time. This put them at the top of the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, heap in the world of remodeling. After a few days of scratching our heads and kicking at the gravel, we agreed on a plan whereby they would bill me weekly for their labor and supplies, and I would add 10 percent for their "overhead," which I hoped meant profit. It took a week of cursing to get Harry Rex to draft a contract reflecting this. At first he refused and called me all sorts of colorful names. The Klumps would begin with the cleanup and demolition, then do the roof and porches. When that was over, we'd sit down and plan the next phase. In April 1972 the project began. At least one of the Klumps appeared every day with a crew. They spent the first month scattering all the varmints and wildlife that had made the property home for decades. - --- A carload of high school seniors was stopped by a state trooper a few hours after their graduation. The car was full of beer, and the trooper, a rookie fresh from school where they had alerted them to such things, smelled something odd. Drugs had finally made it to Ford County. There was marijuana in the car. All six students were charged with felony possession and every other crime the cops could possibly throw at them. The town was shocked—how could our innocent little community get infiltrated with drugs? How could we stop it? I low-keyed the story in the paper; no sense beating...
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This note was uploaded on 07/18/2010 for the course LIT 301 taught by Professor Dra during the Spring '10 term at American College of Computer & Information Sciences.

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