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Updated: June 26, 2025
She admitted that she admired Transley for his calm assumptions, but they nettled her a little nevertheless. If this should develop into a love affair IF it should she had no intention that it was to be a pleasant afternoon's canter. It was to be a race a race, mind you and may the best man win!
Linder stood for some time, thinking "of that" as deeply as his somewhat disorganized mental state would permit. For Transley had announced, with his usual directness, that he wanted so many men and teams for a house excavation in the most exclusive part of the city.
Sooner or later Drazk's disappearance must be noted, perhaps his body would be found and while she had little fear that anyone would associate her with the tragedy it was a most unpleasant thing to think about. Sometimes she wondered if she should not tell her father or Transley just what had happened, but she shrank from doing so as from the confession of a crime.
So saying, and turning the welfare of the men and the horses over to his foreman, the rancher led Transley and Linder along a path through a grove of cottonwoods, across a footbridge where from underneath came the babble of water, to "the house," marked by a yellow light which poured through the windows and lost itself in the shadow of the trees.
There they were ushered in by the rancher's wife, and Zen herself showed Transley to a cool room where were white towels and soft water from the river and quiet and restful furnishings. Transley congratulated himself that he could hardly hope to be better received. After supper he had a social drink with Y.D., and then the two sat on the veranda and smoked and discussed business.
There was a short silence, in which she began to realize her peculiar position. This man was the rival of Transley and Linder in the business of hay-cutting in the valley. He was the foreman of the Landson crowd Landson, against whom her father had been voicing something very near to murder threats not many hours ago.
He had believed that then; now he knew the real reason was that he had allowed himself to hope, against all reason, that Zen Transley might yet be his. He had harbored an unworthy desire, and called it a virtue. Well the die was cast. He had definitely given Zen up. He would tell Phyllis everything.... That is, everything she needed to know.
Dry summers gen'rally mean open winters, but you can't never tell. Zen, how 'bout you? Old Y.D.'s been too long on the job to take chances. Mother? How much did you say, Transley? About two thousand tons? Not enough. Don't care if I do," helping himself to another piece of beef. "I think you'll find two thousand tons, good hay and good measurement," said Transley.
"The daughter of the Y.D!" said Transley, looking across the table at the girl. She met his eyes full; then, with a gleam of white teeth, she raised an empty glass and clinked it against his. The men drained their glasses and re-seated themselves, but the women remained standing. "Perhaps you will excuse us now," said the rancher's wife. "You will wish to talk over business.
Transley found Y.D. more liberal in the adjustment than he had expected. He had not yet realized to what an extent he had won the old rancher's confidence, and Y.D. was a man who, when his confidence had been won, never haggled over details. He was willing to compromise the loss on the operations on the South Y.D. on a scale that was not merely just, but generous.
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