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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 390/416
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At
length
,
he
murmured
an
“
Ah
”
of
satisfaction
.
Far
to
the
south
into
the
white
sheen
of
sky
,
immediately
over
the
horizon
,
he
made
out
a
faint
smudge
—
the
harvester
beyond
doubt
.
Thither
S
.
Behrman
turned
his
horse
’
s
head
.
It
was
all
of
an
hour
’
s
drive
over
the
uneven
ground
and
through
the
crackling
stubble
,
but
at
length
he
reached
the
harvester
.
He
found
,
however
,
that
it
had
been
halted
.
The
sack
sewers
,
together
with
the
header
-
man
,
were
stretched
on
the
ground
in
the
shade
of
the
machine
,
while
the
engineer
and
separator
-
man
were
pottering
about
a
portion
of
the
works
.
“
What
’
s
the
matter
,
Billy
?
”
demanded
S
.
Behrman
reining
up
.
The
engineer
turned
about
.
“
The
grain
is
heavy
in
here
.
We
thought
we
’
d
better
increase
the
speed
of
the
cup
-
carrier
,
and
pulled
up
to
put
in
a
smaller
sprocket
.
”
S
.
Behrman
nodded
to
say
that
was
all
right
,
and
added
a
question
.
“
How
is
she
going
?
”
“
Anywheres
from
twenty
-
five
to
thirty
sacks
to
the
acre
right
along
here
;
nothing
the
matter
with
THAT
I
guess
.
”
“
Nothing
in
the
world
,
Bill
.
”
