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Updated: July 4, 2025
Blaisdell, "but if he's like the most of those eastern experts, Haight and I can fix him very easily." A little later the conversation ended, Mr. Blaisdell saying, as he rose to go to his room: "It is a confoundedly poor property, but I think a few tons of ore from the Yankee Boy will sell it all right."
Haight, on returning to the office from dinner, waited some little time for the expected dispatch. At last it came: "Cameron just arrived with Englishman, Lindlay, and attorney; going out to the mines on evening train. Are at Arlington Hotel, Van Dorn at same hotel and in telegraphic communication with some one at the Y. There is a conspiracy somewhere; what do you know?
"For that matter," said Ellis after a while, "I like Bessie Laguna a good deal better than I do Ida." "Ah, yes," retorted young Haight, "you like Bessie Laguna too much anyhow." Young Haight had a theory that one should never care in any way for that kind of a girl nor become at all intimate with her.
"You could never make me believe anything against Isabel. He's studying terribly hard the judge told pa and likely as not has insomnia. Englishmen are so terribly dull to talk to I shouldn't wonder if it was hard work for them to learn anything." "Insomnia!" cried Mrs. Haight. "I guess I have insomnia and I guess I know what I am talking about.
He was sure of meeting Geary, young Haight, Turner Ravis, and all the people of his set at these functions, and had always managed to have a very jolly time. He had been very quiet since his father's death and had hardly gone out at all; in fact, since Ida Wade's death and his trip down the coast he had seen none of his acquaintances except the boys.
Late one February afternoon Anthony came into the apartment and groping through the little hall, pitch-dark in the winter dusk, found Gloria sitting by the window. She turned as he came in. "What did Mr. Haight have to say?" she asked listlessly. "Nothing," he answered, "usual thing. Next month, perhaps."
She was waiting for us in front of the Haight Street boarding house that served her for a home, and we tucked her between us on the roadster's wide seat. At the St. Dunstan we found my man, left there since the hour of the alarm the day before, and everybody belonging to the management surly and glum. The clerk handed me Clayte's key across the morning papers spread out on his desk.
"Houston, there's one thing I want to say to you, for you've been good to me, that's this; look out for Haight; he's no friend of yours, and I guess you're sharp enough to know it, but maybe you don't know what a sneaking, cowardly cur he is; look out for him!" "Thank you, Morgan, I will."
Since my days in Haight & Foster's law office, a great, great change had come in my manner of life; and, though my friends to a great extent remained among the theatrical and sporting class to which I had received my first introduction on coming to New York, I now occupied a large brick house with stone trimmings in Washington Square, where I entertained in truly luxurious fashion.
Haight, the leading druggist of Rosewater and an eminent and useful citizen, was a large stolid elderly man he was at present in the little dining-room with other gentlemen of his standing and a punch-bowl as regular as a clock in his habits, and devoted conscientiously to his wife, whom he took for a buggy ride every Sunday in fine weather.
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