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He was maladroit about picking it up, trying with thumb and forefinger to seize the pin itself, instead of the more readily grasped design of small pearls at the top, so that he pushed it a little deeper into the gravel; and then occurred a tiny coincidence: the elderly man, passing, let fall the apple from his hand, and it rolled toward the pin just as Corliss managed to secure the latter.
"He doesn't," the young man returned with a rueful shake of the head. "Don't you see? It's Cora that goes." "Why do you let her, then?" He sighed. "I don't seem to be able to keep up with Cora, especially when she's punishing me. I couldn't do something she asked me to, last night " "Invest with Mr. Corliss?" asked Laura quickly. "Yes. It seemed to trouble her that I couldn't.
When he again came to the corral, many of the riders had departed. Shoop stood waiting for John Corliss. "You said them wolves and coyotes " began Sundown. "Yes, ding 'em!" interrupted Shoop. "Looks like they come down last night. Somethin' 's been monkeyin' with the water." "Did you ever see one at night?" queried Sundown, nervously. "See 'em?
Corliss and Wingle glanced at each other. "No, not now." "Then me and Chance is," said Sundown. "Come on, Chance." Corliss and the cook watched the tall figure as it passed through the gateway and out to the mesa. "I'll go head him off, if you say the word, Jack." Corliss made a negative gesture. "He'll come back when he gets hungry. It's a long ride to the water-hole.
Does your partner know of your success in raising a large investment?" "You mean Lindley's? Certainly." Corliss waved his hand in light deprecation. "Of course that's something, but Moliterno would hardly be apt to think of it as very large! You see he's putting in about five times that much, himself, and I've already turned over to him double it for myself.
Cora had promised to show Mr. Corliss an "old print" in the library so Cora said. Lindley gave the remaining lady a desolate and faintly reproachful look. He was kind, but he was a man; and Laura saw that this last abandonment was being attributed in part to her. She reddened, and, being not an angel, observed with crispness: "Certainly. You're quite right: it's my fault!"
"But look here, Corliss, I want you to mind this ain't pocketin'. This is just plain ordinary 'prentice work; but pocketin'" he straightened up his back and spoke reverently "but pocketin' is the deepest science and the finest art. Delicate to a hair's-breadth, hand and eye true and steady as steel.
"And cattle are grazin' on the east side," said Loring. Sundown scratched his head. "I reckon I got to see Jack," he said. "And you'll waste time, at that," said Loring. "Look here! Are you ranchin' to hold down the water-hole for Corliss or to make a livin'?" Sundown hesitated. He gazed across the yard to the distant mesa. Suddenly a figure crossed the pathway to the gate.
The young rancher knew that the girl would do her best to beat him to the cañon level. He feared for her safety on the ragged trail below them. Chinook swung down the trail taking the turns without slackening his speed and Corliss, leaning in on the curves, dodged the sweeping branches.
"Ah, you forget the Slav," Corliss suggested slyly. "The Slav!" Her face fell. "True, the Slav! The only stripling in this world of young men and gray-beards! But he is still in the future, and in the future the decision rests. In the mean time we prepare. If may be we shall have such a start that we shall prevent him growing.
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