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Updated: June 15, 2025
He approached her and laid his hand on her shoulder very much as he would have touched Albert Seagraves or any other comrade. "Whady y' say?" She neither started, nor shrunk, nor looked at him. She simply moved a step away. "They'd never let me ge," she replied bitterly. "I'm too cheap a hand. I do a man's work an' get no pay at all." "You'll have half o' all I c'n make," he put in.
No tree to wave, no grass to rustle; scarcely a sound of domestic life; only the faint melancholy soughing of the wind in the short grass, and the voices of the wild things of the prairie. It was the second year of Boom-town's existence, and Seagraves had not yet grown restless under its monotony. Around him the gophers played saucily.
You editors c'n take things easy, lay around on the prairie, and watch the plovers and medderlarks; but we settlers have got to work." Leaving Rob to sputter over his cooking, Seagraves took his slow way off down toward the oxen grazing in a little hollow. The scene was characteristically, wonderfully beautiful.
"What!" screamed Jack Adams, O'Neill, and Wilson in one breath. "That man?" "That man," replied Seagraves, amazed at Rob, who coolly took his seat, squared his elbows, pressed his collar down at the back, and called for the bacon and eggs. The crowd stared at him in a dead silence. "Where's he going to do it?" asked Jack Adarns. "where's he going to find a girl?" "Ask him," said Seagraves.
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