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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Стр. 85/416
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The
room
was
barren
,
the
walls
of
tongue
-
and
-
groove
sheathing
—
alternate
brown
and
yellow
boards
—
like
the
walls
of
a
stable
,
were
adorned
with
two
or
three
unframed
lithographs
,
the
Christmas
“
souvenirs
”
of
weekly
periodicals
,
fastened
with
great
wire
nails
;
a
bunch
of
herbs
or
flowers
,
lamentably
withered
and
grey
with
dust
,
was
affixed
to
the
mirror
over
the
black
walnut
washstand
by
the
window
,
and
a
yellowed
photograph
of
Annixter
’
s
combined
harvester
—
himself
and
his
men
in
a
group
before
it
—
hung
close
at
hand
.
On
the
floor
,
at
the
bedside
and
before
the
bureau
,
were
two
oval
rag
-
carpet
rugs
.
In
the
corners
of
the
room
were
muddy
boots
,
a
McClellan
saddle
,
a
surveyor
’
s
transit
,
an
empty
coal
-
hod
and
a
box
of
iron
bolts
and
nuts
.
On
the
wall
over
the
bed
,
in
a
gilt
frame
,
was
Annixter
’
s
college
diploma
,
while
on
the
bureau
,
amid
a
litter
of
hair
-
brushes
,
dirty
collars
,
driving
gloves
,
cigars
and
the
like
,
stood
a
broken
machine
for
loading
shells
.
It
was
essentially
a
man
’
s
room
,
rugged
,
uncouth
,
virile
,
full
of
the
odours
of
tobacco
,
of
leather
,
of
rusty
iron
;
the
bare
floor
hollowed
by
the
grind
of
hob
-
nailed
boots
,
the
walls
marred
by
the
friction
of
heavy
things
of
metal
.
Strangely
enough
,
Annixter
’
s
clothes
were
disposed
of
on
the
single
chair
with
the
precision
of
an
old
maid
.
Thus
he
had
placed
them
the
night
before
;
the
boots
set
carefully
side
by
side
,
the
trousers
,
with
the
overalls
still
upon
them
,
neatly
folded
upon
the
seat
of
the
chair
,
the
coat
hanging
from
its
back
.
The
Quien
Sabe
ranch
house
was
a
six
-
room
affair
,
all
on
one
floor
.
By
no
excess
of
charity
could
it
have
been
called
a
home
.
Annixter
was
a
wealthy
man
;
he
could
have
furnished
his
dwelling
with
quite
as
much
elegance
as
that
of
Magnus
Derrick
.
As
it
was
,
however
,
he
considered
his
house
merely
as
a
place
to
eat
,
to
sleep
,
to
change
his
clothes
in
;
as
a
shelter
from
the
rain
,
an
office
where
business
was
transacted
—
nothing
more
.
When
he
was
sufficiently
awake
,
Annixter
thrust
his
feet
into
a
pair
of
wicker
slippers
,
and
shuffled
across
the
office
adjoining
his
bedroom
,
to
the
bathroom
just
beyond
,
and
stood
under
the
icy
shower
a
few
minutes
,
his
teeth
chattering
,
fulminating
oaths
at
the
coldness
of
the
water
.
Still
shivering
,
he
hurried
into
his
clothes
,
and
,
having
pushed
the
button
of
the
electric
bell
to
announce
that
he
was
ready
for
breakfast
,
immediately
plunged
into
the
business
of
the
day
.
While
he
was
thus
occupied
,
the
butcher
’
s
cart
from
Bonneville
drove
into
the
yard
with
the
day
’
s
supply
of
meat
.
This
cart
also
brought
the
Bonneville
paper
and
the
mail
of
the
previous
night
.
In
the
bundle
of
correspondence
that
the
butcher
handed
to
Annixter
that
morning
,
was
a
telegram
from
Osterman
,
at
that
time
on
his
second
trip
to
Los
Angeles
.
It
read
:
“
Flotation
of
company
in
this
district
assured
.
Have
secured
services
of
desirable
party
.
Am
now
in
position
to
sell
you
your
share
stock
,
as
per
original
plan
.
”
Annixter
grunted
as
he
tore
the
despatch
into
strips
.
“
Well
,
”
he
muttered
,
“
that
part
is
settled
,
then
.
”
He
made
a
little
pile
of
the
torn
strips
on
the
top
of
the
unlighted
stove
,
and
burned
them
carefully
,
scowling
down
into
the
flicker
of
fire
,
thoughtful
and
preoccupied
.
He
knew
very
well
what
Osterman
referred
to
by
“
Flotation
of
company
,
”
and
also
who
was
the
“
desirable
party
”
he
spoke
of
.
