Prev | Current Page 397 | Next

Vachell, Horace Annesley, 1861-1955

"Bunch Grass A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch"

He stared at her intently, till the
blood gushed into her face. And then and there he knew almost
everything.
"Got a baby?" he asked thickly.
She answered savagely, "No, I haven't, thank God!"
Above the chimneypiece hung an enlarged photograph of her husband,
taken a couple of days after his wedding. Mr. Barker had faced the
camera with the same brutal complacency which distinguished all his
actions. He smiled grimly, thrusting forward his heavy lower jaw,
inviting inspection, obviously pleased to exhibit himself as a
ferocious and untamed animal. Through the sleeves of his ill-cut black
coat the muscles of his arms and shoulders showed bulgingly. The
ordinary observer, looking at the photograph for the first time, would
be likely to reflect: "Here is a ruffian who needs a licking, but he
has not got it yet."
"How's paw?" said Mamie.
"Las' time I seen the old man he was paralysed drunk, as usual."
"Yes, he would be that," assented Mamie indifferently.
After this, conversation languished, and very soon the visitor took
his leave. When Mamie handed to him his hat she said awkwardly, "You
never told me good-bye"; and to this indictment Dennis replied
laconically, "Holy Mackinaw! I couldn't.


Pages:
385 386 387 388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409