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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Стр. 11/416
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“
You
may
well
say
that
,
”
observed
Presley
moodily
,
discouraged
by
the
other
’
s
talk
.
All
his
doubts
and
uncertainty
had
returned
to
him
.
Never
would
he
grasp
the
subject
of
his
great
poem
.
To
-
day
,
the
life
was
colourless
.
Romance
was
dead
.
He
had
lived
too
late
.
To
write
of
the
past
was
not
what
he
desired
.
Reality
was
what
he
longed
for
,
things
that
he
had
seen
.
Yet
how
to
make
this
compatible
with
romance
.
He
rose
,
putting
on
his
hat
,
offering
the
old
man
a
cigarette
.
The
centenarian
accepted
with
the
air
of
a
grandee
,
and
extended
his
horn
snuff
-
box
.
Presley
shook
his
head
.
“
I
was
born
too
late
for
that
,
”
he
declared
,
“
for
that
,
and
for
many
other
things
.
Adios
.
”
“
You
are
travelling
to
-
day
,
senor
?
”
“
A
little
turn
through
the
country
,
to
get
the
kinks
out
of
the
muscles
,
”
Presley
answered
.
“
I
go
up
into
the
Quien
Sabe
,
into
the
high
country
beyond
the
Mission
.
”
“
Ah
,
the
Quien
Sabe
rancho
.
The
sheep
are
grazing
there
this
week
.
”
Solotari
,
the
keeper
of
the
restaurant
,
explained
:
“
Young
Annixter
sold
his
wheat
stubble
on
the
ground
to
the
sheep
raisers
off
yonder
;
”
he
motioned
eastward
toward
the
Sierra
foothills
.
“
Since
Sunday
the
herd
has
been
down
.
Very
clever
,
that
young
Annixter
.
He
gets
a
price
for
his
stubble
,
which
else
he
would
have
to
burn
,
and
also
manures
his
land
as
the
sheep
move
from
place
to
place
.
A
true
Yankee
,
that
Annixter
,
a
good
gringo
.
”
After
his
meal
,
Presley
once
more
mounted
his
bicycle
,
and
leaving
the
restaurant
and
the
Plaza
behind
him
,
held
on
through
the
main
street
of
the
drowsing
town
—
the
street
that
farther
on
developed
into
the
road
which
turned
abruptly
northward
and
led
onward
through
the
hop
-
fields
and
the
Quien
Sabe
ranch
toward
the
Mission
of
San
Juan
.
The
Home
ranch
of
the
Quien
Sabe
was
in
the
little
triangle
bounded
on
the
south
by
the
railroad
,
on
the
northwest
by
Broderson
Creek
,
and
on
the
east
by
the
hop
fields
and
the
Mission
lands
.
It
was
traversed
in
all
directions
,
now
by
the
trail
from
Hooven
’
s
,
now
by
the
irrigating
ditch
—
the
same
which
Presley
had
crossed
earlier
in
the
day
—
and
again
by
the
road
upon
which
Presley
then
found
himself
.
In
its
centre
were
Annixter
’
s
ranch
house
and
barns
,
topped
by
the
skeleton
-
like
tower
of
the
artesian
well
that
was
to
feed
the
irrigating
ditch
.
Farther
on
,
the
course
of
Broderson
Creek
was
marked
by
a
curved
line
of
grey
-
green
willows
,
while
on
the
low
hills
to
the
north
,
as
Presley
advanced
,
the
ancient
Mission
of
San
Juan
de
Guadalajara
,
with
its
belfry
tower
and
red
-
tiled
roof
,
began
to
show
itself
over
the
crests
of
the
venerable
pear
trees
that
clustered
in
its
garden
.
