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This wouldn't have happened. Damn dogs! They say little Donnie belongs east o' the tracks. I killed O'Rourke for thinkin' it." A knock sounded on the door, and Bob opened it, to admit Dan Pennycook. "Doc Taylor's in Bakersfield" he said. Mr. Hennage grinned. "I knew it no luck to-day" he said. "Just wipe the sand out o' my eyes, Bob an' let me kick the bucket without disturbin' nobody.
He brought it over to Donna at the eating-house, delivering with it a pantomime of the inquisitive Miss Pickett when she discovered that the order for delivery of the registered letter to the gambler was dated and mailed from Bakersfield. At dinner Bob read the letter and silently handed it over to Donna. It was from T. Morgan Carey.
She wept a little as she reflected how provincial and plebeian she must appear, stepping down from the train at Bakersfield, clad in a white duck walking suit, white shoes and stockings and a white sailor hat. She wanted Bob to be proud of her, and her heart swelled to bursting at the thought that she must deny him such a simple pleasure. Poor Donna! Once she had thought that suit so beautiful.
However, there had been exasperating and unexpected delays in their shipment. Magnus and Harran both had counted upon having the ploughs in their implement barns that very week, but a tracer sent after them had only resulted in locating them, still en route, somewhere between The Needles and Bakersfield. Now there was likelihood of rain within the week.
Then Nick told her that he lived on a ranch a good many miles from Bakersfield. "I call it the 'Lucky Star Ranch," he added. "I'll write you from Los Angeles," said she, and became conscious that her last words had been overheard by Mr. Millard. He had seated himself at a table close by, and now glanced up with such an intelligent look that she was sure he had taken in something of the situation.
He might buy his Sunday hat in Bakersfield or Los Angeles and still retain caste, but his every-day hat never! Such a proceeding would have been construed by Donna's admirers as a direct attack on home industry. In fact, one made money by purchasing his hats of Donna Corblay.
he quoted, and walked across to meet her. Early in the forenoon of the day following Bob McGraw's spectacular advent into San Pasqual, the nurse for whom Doc Taylor had telephoned to Bakersfield arrived at the Hat Ranch. She proved to be a kind middle-aged woman, devoted to her profession and thoroughly competent to do everything for Bob McGraw that could be done.
Harley P. Hennage had purchased a ticket for San Francisco, but when the train reached Bakersfield and he observed T. Morgan Carey leaving the car, bag in hand, the gambler suddenly decided that he, also, would honor Bakersfield with his presence. He excused himself, hastily quitted his innocent game of whist, seized his suit-case and rode up town in the same hotel bus with Carey.
Their affairs must take care of themselves." Mariette, Carmen's French maid, hurriedly and sulkily packed enough things to last her mistress for a week; and by the time the trunk and bag were ready the carriage was waiting to take Mrs. Gaylor into Bakersfield.
"He sure was, but they're not all as bad as that. Once down at Bakersfield I saw a bandit. They caught him near a place where I lived and the sheriff brought him in there. He looked like a rough sort of rancher, nothing dangerous about him." The expression of pensiveness deepened, increased by a sudden, disturbing thought.
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