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That night Elliott, the managing editor, sent for Sam; and when Sam entered his office he found also there Walsh, the foreign editor, with whom he was acquainted only by sight. Elliott introduced them and told Sam to be seated. "Ward," he began abruptly, "I'm sorry to lose you, but you've got to go. It's on account of that story of this morning." Sam made no sign, but he was deeply hurt.
Sam sat at his desk, fingering the yellow paper lying before him and fighting to get his head clear. "The old coward. The damned old coward," he muttered; "any one could have done that." When Lewis came into Sam's office he found his chief sitting at his desk fingering the telegram and muttering to himself.
"I guess we know what we are doing!" panted Tom. "Come on!" And he caught Sam by the arm. The deck gained, they gave a hasty look around. The schooner was lying at anchor about a hundred yards from shore, at a short distance above the busy portion of the city. "There ought to be a small boat handy," said Dick, leading the way to the stern. "We can't wait for a boat," answered Sam.
It puts up the money and does the work and then the farmers on the Project that's what they call the system and the land it waters have ten years or so to pay back what it cost and then the water system belongs to them. They are going to put up some of the biggest dams in the world. I'd like to try to get into that work. Somehow I like the idea of working for Uncle Sam.
"What I meant to ask, sir, however," he continued, "is what is the prospect of getting water in this part of the country in case we should like to settle in here?" "Oh, that?" said Sam. "Why, say, you couldn't very well hit it much better. Less'n a mile farther down this trail to the south you come to the Sinks of the White Woman Creek.
My plan is but this minute come into my head; but it strikes me instantaneously as something new, good, and useful, full of pleasure and full of moral. If old Quarles and Wither could live again, we would invite them into our firm. Burns hath done his part. Poor Sam Le Grice! I am afraid the world and the camp and the university have spoiled him among them.
However, both Harry and Sam were very discreet people, and they had heard enough to show them that their presence could easily be dispensed with; so, as there was a nice grassy bank under a widespreading tree, they, with the two seamen carrying the bags, and the monkey and the parrots, went and sat down there to wait till the boatswain might recollect that there were such beings in existence.
"It was Sam Benham, Daddy," whispered the girl. "I couldn't marry him. I'd rather die, and so I ran away. I was going to be a tramp; but I had no idea a tramp's existence was so adventurous. You won't make me marry him, Daddy, will you? I wouldn't be happy, Daddy." "I should say not, Gail; you can be an old maid all your life if you want to."
Soon the three brothers were on the way, Dick leading and Tom and Sam coming behind, side by side. It was an ideal day for cycling, cool and clear, and the road they had elected to take was inviting to the last degree, with its broad curves, its beautiful trees, and the mountainous views far to the north and west. "It's a wonder we didn't get wheels before," observed Dick.
"Forgot you were his cousin, Jeff," Miller grumbled. "But it's a fact that he works everybody to shove him along." "He's only a kid. Give him time. He'll be a big help to any community." "James K.'s biggest achievement will always be James K." Jeff chuckled at the apothegm even while he protested. Sam capped it with another. "He's always sitting to himself for his own portrait."
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