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The ex-engineer promptly became voluble, assertive, doggedly emphatic. "Smartest little tad in all Tulare County, and more fun! A regular whole show in herself." "And the hops?" inquired the other. "Bully," declared Dyke, with the good-natured man's readiness to talk of his private affairs to any one who would listen. "Bully. I'm dead sure of a bonanza crop by now. The rain came JUST right.
Wildeve meanwhile had arrived on the former side, and the light from Yeobright's lamp shed a flecked and agitated radiance across the weir pool, revealing to the ex-engineer the tumbling courses of the currents from the hatches above. Across this gashed and puckered mirror a dark body was slowly borne by one of the backward currents.
In the evenings he played with Sidney like a big boy, an older brother, lying on the bed, or the sofa, taking her in his arms. Between them they had invented a great game. The ex-engineer, his boots removed, his huge legs in the air, hoisted the little tad on the soles of his stockinged feet like a circus acrobat, dandling her there, pretending he was about to let her fall.
It was Dyke's voice, and the next instant he shot into view in the open square in front of the house. "Oh, my God!" cried Presley. The ex-engineer threw the horse on its haunches, springing from the saddle; and, as he did so, the beast collapsed, shuddering, to the ground. Annixter sprang from the window, and ran forward, Presley following.
S. Behrman emphasised each word of his reply with a tap of one forefinger on the counter before him: "All the traffic will bear." The ex-engineer stepped back a pace, his fingers on the ledge of the counter, to steady himself. He felt himself grow pale, his heart became a mere leaden weight in his chest, inert, refusing to beat.
The chase led directly up the old spur, but it did not continue quite to the five-mile-distant end of it. A few hundred yards short of the stockade enclosing the old buildings the shadowy figure took to the forest and began to climb the ridge, going straight up, as nearly as Judson could determine. The ex-engineer followed, still keeping his distance.
It was in spite of all this that the impression that the second speaker was trying to disguise his voice persisted. But the ex-engineer of fast passenger-trains was able to banish the impression after the first few minutes of eavesdropping.
Now faro is a silent game, and more than once an angry voice commanded the foolish one to choose his place and to shut his mouth. But the ex-engineer seemed quite incapable of doing either. Twice he made the wavering circuit of the oval table, and when he finally gripped an empty chair it was the one nearest to Rufford on the right, and diagonally opposite to the dealer.
Dyke shot a glance of suspicion at the other. Then, reassured, he remarked: "You look it up. You'll see I'm right." S. Behrman came forward and shook hands politely with the ex-engineer. "Anything I can do for you, Mr. Dyke?" Dyke explained. When he had done speaking, the clerk turned to S. Behrman and observed, respectfully: "Our regular rate on hops is five cents."
No doubt, the fellow's wits were turned. That was the long and short of it. The ex-engineer reached the Post Office in Bonneville towards eleven o'clock, but he did not at once present his notice of the arrival of his consignment at Ruggles's office. It entertained him to indulge in an hour's lounging about the streets.
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