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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 202/416
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The
buster
had
a
string
of
horses
he
was
shipping
southward
.
No
doubt
he
had
come
to
make
arrangements
with
the
Railroad
in
the
matter
of
stock
cars
.
The
conference
of
the
four
men
was
amicable
in
the
extreme
.
Dyke
,
studying
the
figures
on
the
back
of
the
envelope
,
came
forward
again
.
Absorbed
only
in
his
own
distress
,
he
ignored
the
editor
and
the
cow
-
puncher
.
“
Say
,
”
he
hazarded
,
“
how
about
this
?
I
make
out
—
—
“
We
’
ve
told
you
what
our
rates
are
,
Mr
.
Dyke
,
”
exclaimed
the
clerk
angrily
.
“
That
’
s
all
the
arrangement
we
will
make
.
Take
it
or
leave
it
.
”
He
turned
again
to
Genslinger
,
giving
the
ex
-
engineer
his
back
.
Dyke
moved
away
and
stood
for
a
moment
in
the
centre
of
the
room
,
staring
at
the
figures
on
the
envelope
.
“
I
don
’
t
see
,
”
he
muttered
,
“
just
what
I
’
m
going
to
do
.
No
,
I
don
’
t
see
what
I
’
m
going
to
do
at
all
.
”
Ruggles
came
in
,
bringing
with
him
two
other
men
in
whom
Dyke
recognised
dummy
buyers
of
the
Los
Muertos
and
Osterman
ranchos
.
They
brushed
by
him
,
jostling
his
elbow
,
and
as
he
went
out
of
the
door
he
heard
them
exchange
jovial
greetings
with
Delaney
,
Genslinger
,
and
S
.
Behrman
.
Dyke
went
down
the
stairs
to
the
street
and
proceeded
onward
aimlessly
in
the
direction
of
the
Yosemite
House
,
fingering
the
yellow
envelope
and
looking
vacantly
at
the
sidewalk
.
There
was
a
stoop
to
his
massive
shoulders
.
His
great
arms
dangled
loosely
at
his
sides
,
the
palms
of
his
hands
open
.
As
he
went
along
,
a
certain
feeling
of
shame
touched
him
.
Surely
his
predicament
must
be
apparent
to
every
passer
-
by
.
No
doubt
,
every
one
recognised
the
unsuccessful
man
in
the
very
way
he
slouched
along
.
