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Lyman brought the group up to the gentleman in question and introduced them. "Mr. Magnus Derrick, of course," observed Cedarquist, as he took the Governor's hand. "I've known you by repute for some time, sir. This is a great pleasure, I assure you." Then, turning to Presley, he added: "Hello, Pres, my boy. How is the great, the very great Poem getting on?"
Asia and Europe must look to America to be fed. What fatuous neglect of opportunity to continue to deluge Europe with our surplus food when the East trembles upon the verge of starvation!" The two men, Cedarquist and Magnus, continued the conversation a little further. The manufacturer's idea was new to the Governor. He was greatly interested. He withdrew from the conversation.
You need a better dinner than I can give you, and that is just what you are to have." "Have I blundered?" Presley hastened to exclaim. "Did not Mr. Cedarquist mention Friday evening?" "No, no, no," she cried; "it was he who blundered. YOU blundering in a social amenity! Preposterous! No; Mr.
Cedarquist; his brother Stephen, whose hair was straight as an Indian's, but of a pallid straw color, with Beatrice's sister; Gerard himself, taciturn, bearded, rotund, loud of breath, escorted Mrs. Cedarquist. Besides these, there were one or two other couples, whose names Presley did not remember. The dining-room was superb in its appointments.
A few hours after her arrival, Presley, waiting at his club, received a despatch from Cedarquist to the effect that she would clear early the next morning and that he must be aboard of her before midnight. He sent his trunks aboard and at once hurried to Cedarquist's office to say good-bye. He found the manufacturer in excellent spirits.
We had thought that in the Supreme Court of the United States, at least, we could find justice. And the news of its decision was the worst, last blow of all. For Magnus it was the last positively the very last." "Poor, poor Derrick," murmured Cedarquist. "Tell me about him, Pres. How does he take it? What is he going to do?" "It beggars him, sir.
By a miracle, S. Behrman, himself, remained untouched. On a certain afternoon in the early part of July, about a month after the fight at the irrigating ditch and the mass meeting at Bonneville, Cedarquist, at the moment opening his mail in his office in San Francisco, was genuinely surprised to receive a visit from Presley.
Lyman had disappeared, alleging a business engagement, but Magnus and his younger son had retired to the library of the club on the floor above. It was almost deserted. They were deep in earnest conversation. "Harran," said the Governor, with decision, "there is a deal, there, in what Cedarquist says. Our wheat to China, hey, boy?" "It is certainly worth thinking of, sir."
"By the way," said Cedarquist, "what have you on hand for, let us say, Friday evening? Won't you dine with us then? The girls are going to the country Monday of next week, and you probably won't see them again for some time if you take that ocean voyage of yours." "I'm afraid I shall be very poor company, sir," hazarded Presley. "There's no 'go, no life in me at all these days.
Cedarquist at their head, had organised a number of committees, but the manufacturer's wife turned the meetings of these committees into social affairs luncheons, teas, where one discussed the ways and means of assisting the starving Asiatics over teacups and plates of salad. Shortly afterward a mild commotion spread throughout the assemblage of the club's guests.
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