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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 192/416
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Abruptly
Annixter
found
himself
alone
.
For
a
moment
he
did
not
move
,
then
he
picked
up
his
campaign
hat
,
carefully
creased
its
limp
crown
and
put
it
on
his
head
and
stood
for
a
moment
,
looking
vaguely
at
the
ground
on
both
sides
of
him
.
He
went
away
without
uttering
a
word
,
without
change
of
countenance
,
his
hands
in
his
pockets
,
his
feet
taking
great
strides
along
the
trail
in
the
direction
of
the
ranch
house
.
He
had
no
sight
of
Hilma
again
that
evening
,
and
the
next
morning
he
was
up
early
and
did
not
breakfast
at
the
ranch
house
.
Business
of
the
League
called
him
to
Bonneville
to
confer
with
Magnus
and
the
firm
of
lawyers
retained
by
the
League
to
fight
the
land
-
grabbing
cases
.
An
appeal
was
to
be
taken
to
the
Supreme
Court
at
Washington
,
and
it
was
to
be
settled
that
day
which
of
the
cases
involved
should
be
considered
as
test
cases
.
Instead
of
driving
or
riding
into
Bonneville
,
as
he
usually
did
,
Annixter
took
an
early
morning
train
,
the
Bakersfield
-
Fresno
local
at
Guadalajara
,
and
went
to
Bonneville
by
rail
,
arriving
there
at
twenty
minutes
after
seven
and
breakfasting
by
appointment
with
Magnus
Derrick
and
Osterman
at
the
Yosemite
House
,
on
Main
Street
.
The
conference
of
the
committee
with
the
lawyers
took
place
in
a
front
room
of
the
Yosemite
,
one
of
the
latter
bringing
with
him
his
clerk
,
who
made
a
stenographic
report
of
the
proceedings
and
took
carbon
copies
of
all
letters
written
.
The
conference
was
long
and
complicated
,
the
business
transacted
of
the
utmost
moment
,
and
it
was
not
until
two
o
’
clock
that
Annixter
found
himself
at
liberty
.
However
,
as
he
and
Magnus
descended
into
the
lobby
of
the
hotel
,
they
were
aware
of
an
excited
and
interested
group
collected
about
the
swing
doors
that
opened
from
the
lobby
of
the
Yosemite
into
the
bar
of
the
same
name
.
Dyke
was
there
—
even
at
a
distance
they
could
hear
the
reverberation
of
his
deep
-
toned
voice
,
uplifted
in
wrath
and
furious
expostulation
.
Magnus
and
Annixter
joined
the
group
wondering
,
and
all
at
once
fell
full
upon
the
first
scene
of
a
drama
.
That
same
morning
Dyke
’
s
mother
had
awakened
him
according
to
his
instructions
at
daybreak
.
A
consignment
of
his
hop
poles
from
the
north
had
arrived
at
the
freight
office
of
the
P
.
and
S
.
W
.
in
Bonneville
,
and
he
was
to
drive
in
on
his
farm
wagon
and
bring
them
out
.
He
would
have
a
busy
day
.
“
Hello
,
hello
,
”
he
said
,
as
his
mother
pulled
his
ear
to
arouse
him
;
“
morning
,
mamma
.
”
“
It
’
s
time
,
”
she
said
,
“
after
five
already
.
Your
breakfast
is
on
the
stove
.
”
He
took
her
hand
and
kissed
it
with
great
affection
.
He
loved
his
mother
devotedly
,
quite
as
much
as
he
did
the
little
tad
.
In
their
little
cottage
,
in
the
forest
of
green
hops
that
surrounded
them
on
every
hand
,
the
three
led
a
joyous
and
secluded
life
,
contented
,
industrious
,
happy
,
asking
nothing
better
.
Dyke
,
himself
,
was
a
big
-
hearted
,
jovial
man
who
spread
an
atmosphere
of
good
-
humour
wherever
he
went
.
In
the
evenings
he
played
with
Sidney
like
a
big
boy
,
an
older
brother
,
lying
on
the
bed
,
or
the
sofa
,
taking
her
in
his
arms
.
Between
them
they
had
invented
a
great
game
.
The
ex
-
engineer
,
his
boots
removed
,
his
huge
legs
in
the
air
,
hoisted
the
little
tad
on
the
soles
of
his
stockinged
feet
like
a
circus
acrobat
,
dandling
her
there
,
pretending
he
was
about
to
let
her
fall
.
Sidney
,
choking
with
delight
,
held
on
nervously
,
with
little
screams
and
chirps
of
excitement
,
while
he
shifted
her
gingerly
from
one
foot
to
another
,
and
thence
,
the
final
act
,
the
great
gallery
play
,
to
the
palm
of
one
great
hand
.
At
this
point
Mrs
.
Dyke
was
called
in
,
both
father
and
daughter
,
children
both
,
crying
out
that
she
was
to
come
in
and
look
,
look
.
She
arrived
out
of
breath
from
the
kitchen
,
the
potato
masher
in
her
hand
.
“
Such
children
,
”
she
murmured
,
shaking
her
head
at
them
,
amused
for
all
that
,
tucking
the
potato
masher
under
her
arm
and
clapping
her
hands
.
In
the
end
,
it
was
part
of
the
game
that
Sidney
should
tumble
down
upon
Dyke
,
whereat
he
invariably
vented
a
great
bellow
as
if
in
pain
,
declaring
that
his
ribs
were
broken
.
Gasping
,
his
eyes
shut
,
he
pretended
to
be
in
the
extreme
of
dissolution
—
perhaps
he
was
dying
.
Sidney
,
always
a
little
uncertain
,
amused
but
distressed
,
shook
him
nervously
,
tugging
at
his
beard
,
pushing
open
his
eyelid
with
one
finger
,
imploring
him
not
to
frighten
her
,
to
wake
up
and
be
good
.
