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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 109/416
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“
Huh
!
”
Annixter
had
growled
to
himself
,
“
that
pip
Delaney
.
Seems
now
that
I
’
m
to
act
as
go
-
between
for
’
em
.
Well
,
maybe
that
feemale
girl
gets
this
letter
,
and
then
,
again
,
maybe
she
don
’
t
.
”
But
suddenly
his
attention
was
diverted
.
Directly
opposite
the
Post
Office
,
upon
the
corner
of
the
street
,
stood
quite
the
best
business
building
of
which
Bonneville
could
boast
.
It
was
built
of
Colusa
granite
,
very
solid
,
ornate
,
imposing
.
Upon
the
heavy
plate
of
the
window
of
its
main
floor
,
in
gold
and
red
letters
,
one
read
the
words
:
“
Loan
and
Savings
Bank
of
Tulare
County
.
”
It
was
of
this
bank
that
S
.
Behrman
was
president
.
At
the
street
entrance
of
the
building
was
a
curved
sign
of
polished
brass
,
fixed
upon
the
angle
of
the
masonry
;
this
sign
bore
the
name
,
“
S
.
Behrman
,
”
and
under
it
in
smaller
letters
were
the
words
,
“
Real
Estate
,
Mortgages
.
”
As
Annixter
’
s
glance
fell
upon
this
building
,
he
was
surprised
to
see
Dyke
standing
upon
the
curb
in
front
of
it
,
apparently
reading
from
a
newspaper
that
he
held
in
his
hand
.
But
Annixter
promptly
discovered
that
he
was
not
reading
at
all
.
From
time
to
time
the
former
engineer
shot
a
swift
glance
out
of
the
corner
of
his
eye
up
and
down
the
street
.
Annixter
jumped
at
a
conclusion
.
An
idea
suddenly
occurred
to
him
.
Dyke
was
watching
to
see
if
he
was
observed
—
was
waiting
an
opportunity
when
no
one
who
knew
him
should
be
in
sight
.
Annixter
stepped
back
a
little
,
getting
a
telegraph
pole
somewhat
between
him
and
the
other
.
Very
interested
,
he
watched
what
was
going
on
.
Pretty
soon
Dyke
thrust
the
paper
into
his
pocket
and
sauntered
slowly
to
the
windows
of
a
stationery
store
,
next
the
street
entrance
of
S
.
Behrman
’
s
offices
.
For
a
few
seconds
he
stood
there
,
his
back
turned
,
seemingly
absorbed
in
the
display
,
but
eyeing
the
street
narrowly
nevertheless
;
then
he
turned
around
,
gave
a
last
look
about
and
stepped
swiftly
into
the
doorway
by
the
great
brass
sign
.
He
disappeared
.
Annixter
came
from
behind
the
telegraph
pole
with
a
flush
of
actual
shame
upon
his
face
.
There
had
been
something
so
slinking
,
so
mean
,
in
the
movements
and
manner
of
this
great
,
burly
honest
fellow
of
an
engineer
,
that
he
could
not
help
but
feel
ashamed
for
him
.
Circumstances
were
such
that
a
simple
business
transaction
was
to
Dyke
almost
culpable
,
a
degradation
,
a
thing
to
be
concealed
.
“
Borrowing
money
of
S
.
Behrman
,
”
commented
Annixter
,
“
mortgaging
your
little
homestead
to
the
railroad
,
putting
your
neck
in
the
halter
.
Poor
fool
!
The
pity
of
it
.
Good
Lord
,
your
hops
must
pay
you
big
,
now
,
old
man
.
”
Annixter
lunched
at
the
Yosemite
Hotel
,
and
then
later
on
,
toward
the
middle
of
the
afternoon
,
rode
out
of
the
town
at
a
canter
by
the
way
of
the
Upper
Road
that
paralleled
the
railroad
tracks
and
that
ran
diametrically
straight
between
Bonneville
and
Guadalajara
.
About
half
-
way
between
the
two
places
he
overtook
Father
Sarria
trudging
back
to
San
Juan
,
his
long
cassock
powdered
with
dust
.
He
had
a
wicker
crate
in
one
hand
,
and
in
the
other
,
in
a
small
square
valise
,
the
materials
for
the
Holy
Sacrament
.
Since
early
morning
the
priest
had
covered
nearly
fifteen
miles
on
foot
,
in
order
to
administer
Extreme
Unction
to
a
moribund
good
-
for
-
nothing
,
a
greaser
,
half
Indian
,
half
Portuguese
,
who
lived
in
a
remote
corner
of
Osterman
’
s
stock
range
,
at
the
head
of
a
canon
there
.
But
he
had
returned
by
way
of
Bonneville
to
get
a
crate
that
had
come
for
him
from
San
Diego
.
He
had
been
notified
of
its
arrival
the
day
before
.
Annixter
pulled
up
and
passed
the
time
of
day
with
the
priest
.
“
I
don
’
t
often
get
up
your
way
,
”
he
said
,
slowing
down
his
horse
to
accommodate
Sarria
’
s
deliberate
plodding
.
Sarria
wiped
the
perspiration
from
his
smooth
,
shiny
face
.
