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In Michigan I was familiar with the use of the sand vetch as a forage plant, for hay, for green manure, and as a nitrogen producer. In western Michigan, on the loose sandy soil, I sowed in September or October 20 pounds per acre for a seed crop and 40 pounds per acre for pasture, hay, or green manure. Can I expect good results in Fresno and Tulare counties without irrigation?
"Not unless you wash your finger," snapped Mrs. Allen, busy polishing the keys Fresno had struck. "You left a grease-spot on every key you've touched," she explained. Fresno held up his finger for Allen's inspection. "I've been greasin' the wagon," was his explanation. "Git out with the rest of them," she commanded. "I've got enough to do to look after that cake." Mrs.
On this information, Galen Clark told me, he went up and thoroughly explored the grove, counting the trees and measuring the largest, and becoming familiar with it. He stated also that he had explored the forest to the southward and had discovered the much larger Fresno grove of about two square miles, six or seven miles distant from the Mariposa grove.
Moreover, she did not like to be used even indirectly as a target for fun-making, although she delighted in making some one else a feeder for her ideas of fun. Fresno modestly announced he was something of a musical artist. "I 'low I can shake a tune out of that," he declared. "Let's hear you," cried Polly, rather doubtful of Fresno's ability.
"It could be better, of course, Abe," he said, "but we done a tremendous spring trade, anyhow, even though we ain't got no more that sucker Louis Grossman working for us. We shipped a couple of three-thousand-dollar orders last week. One of 'em to Strauss, Kahn & Baum, of Fresno." These were old customers of Potash & Perlmutter, and Abe winced.
Had they reached Fresno yet? Raising the window curtain, he made a shade with both hands on either side of his face and looked out. The night was thick, dark, clouded over. A fine rain was falling, leaving horizontal streaks on the glass of the outside window. Only the faintest grey blur indicated the sky. Everything else was impenetrable blackness.
And so it was agreed. That evening, when the clock struck nine, J. Wallingford Speed was ready and willing to drag himself off to bed, in spite of the knowledge that Fresno was waiting to take his place in the hammock. He was racked by a thousand pains, his muscles were sore, his back lame.
"Come, now, clear out of here, the hull kit an' b'ilin' of you," she ordered. The men hastily crowded out on the piazza. "Take that packin'-case out of sight, if you mean this pianny to be a surprise to Echo. She'll be trottin' back here in no time," she added. Fresno had lingered to assure Jim: "This yere birthday's goin' to be a success. Would you like another selection?" he eagerly asked.
Fresno leered. The gambler leaned back and his swift white hands flashed. Neale believed he had a derringer up each sleeve. A wrong word now would precipitate a fight. "Excuse me," said Neale, hastily. "I don't want to make trouble. I just said I never saw this gentleman before." "Nor I him," returned the gambler, courteously. "My name is Place Hough and my word is not doubted."
"Reckon it was out of Fresno," replied Roberts, and it was evident that he tried to hide the effect of a memory. Then Kells touched his hat to Joan, giving her the fleetest kind of a glance. "Rather off the track aren't you?" he asked Roberts. "Reckon we are," replied Roberts, and he began to lose some of his restraint. His voice sounded clearer and did not halt.
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