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As sometimes happens, Marcus furnished the explanation upon the instant. "I promised a duck up here on the avenue I'd call for his dog at four this afternoon." Marcus was Old Grannis's assistant in a little dog hospital that the latter had opened in a sort of alley just off Polk Street, some four blocks above Old Grannis lived in one of the back rooms of McTeague's flat.
Graham and I attended to that." "I just saw Russell and Stetson. They couldn't possibly have got here to-day from home. Has has this been planned?" Grannis nodded. "Yes. Kennedy and his gang have been watching here and at the ranch for days. They thought you'd show up at one place or the other. The whole country is out. There are lots of strangers here, from ranches I never heard of before.
"I came to see Florence," he announced to Scotty in the front yard; then, as he tied the pony, he added: "I spoke to Grannis, and he said he'd come over and help you. Do you know exactly when you'll want him?" "Yes, day after to-morrow. This weather is too good to waste." Ben turned toward the house. "All right. I'll see that he's over here bright and early."
Marcus brought him down, nevertheless, having found him just preparing for bed. "I I must apologize," stammered Old Grannis, as he stood in the doorway. "I had not quite expected I find find myself a little unprepared." He was without collar and cravat, owing to Marcus Schouler's precipitate haste. He was annoyed beyond words that Miss Baker saw him thus. Could anything be more embarrassing?
The little dressmaker was continually turning about in her place, inquiring of the children if they wanted for anything; inquiries they rarely answered other than by stare, fixed, ox-like, expressionless. Suddenly the little dressmaker turned to Old Grannis and exclaimed: "I'm so very fond of little children." "Yes, yes, they're very interesting. I'm very fond of them, too."
Meanwhile, back at the scene of the tragedy, there had been feverish action. Many of the cowboys were already about the barns, and lanterns gleamed in the horse corral. Within the house, in the nearest bunk where they had laid him, stretched the proprietor of the ranch. About him were grouped Grannis, Graham, and Ma Graham.
Old Grannis dared not move, but sat rigid, his eyes riveted on his empty soup plate. All at once there was a report like a pistol. The men started in their places. Mrs. Sieppe uttered a muffled shriek. The waiter from the cheap restaurant, hired as Maria's assistant, rose from a bending posture, a champagne bottle frothing in his hand; he was grinning from ear to ear.
Go to bed, and to-morrow go on with your work as usual. Grannis will be in charge while I'm gone," and without a backward glance the long figure returned to the ranch-house. The weazened foreman and the tall adventurer had been watching him impassively from the doorway. In silence they made room for him to pass. "Grannis," he asked directly, "have those horses been taken care of?" "No, sir."
"Why so?" he asked. "You'll find out why," retorted the other. "Fire here's 'most as uncommon as rain, and the boss don't like them smoky jokes." "But I saw smoke, I tell you," reiterated Grannis, defensively; "smoke, dead sure!" "All right, if you're certain sure." "Marcom knows what he's talking about, Grannis," said Graham.
On this occasion she presented herself at the door of Old Grannis's room late in the afternoon. His door stood a little open. That of Miss Baker was ajar a few inches. The two old people were "keeping company" after their fashion. "Got any junk, Mister Grannis?" inquired Maria, standing in the door, a very dirty, half-filled pillowcase over one arm.
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