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Barely four thousand a year in securities so iron-bound by his mother's will that he could not touch them. Black resentment flamed hotly up in his heart at the memory of the Westfall custom of willing the bulk of the great estate to the oldest son.
"His discretion," added Philip warmly, "has departed to that forgotten limbo which has claimed his beard." The Baron was staring very hard at the camp fire. "So," said he at last, "it is for this that I have been " he searched for an expressive Americanism, and shrugging, invented one, "thunder-cracking along the highway in search of the man Themar saw by the fire of Miss Westfall.
There was a disappointing lack of interest in the other's face. "Even that is possible," assented the foreigner stiffly, "Environment is a shifting circumstance of many colors. The honor of your acquaintance, however, I fear is not mine." Carl's eyes, dark and cold as agate, compelled attention. "My name," said he deliberately, "is Granberry, Carl Westfall Granberry."
Says I, did you ever hear tell of a sartan rich man, that had a beggar called Lazarus laid at his gate, and how the dogs had more compassion than he had, and came and licked his sores? cause if you have, look at that forehanded and sponsible man there, deacon Westfall, and you see the rich man.
It's too bad don't look like we're going to get any action for our money a-tall. 'Sa shame, too what's the use of wasting it, now that we've got it all made?" "We are not done yet," cautioned Westfall, and even as he spoke an alarm bell burst into strident clamor one of their far-flung detector screens was telling the world that it had encountered a dangerous frequency.
How do you get that way?" "By working with Brandon and Westfall. Those birds have got real brains and they're on the track of something that will, in all probability, be as far ahead of Roeser's Rays as our present system is ahead of the science of the seventeenth century." "Really?" she looked at him in astonishment. "Tell me about it." "Can't be done," he refused.
"It's Carl of course!" she murmured in a panic. "I just know it is. I've never known him to even gurgle much less snore in his sleep. Like as not his windows are still boarded up and he's suffocating. Only a Westfall would think of such a thing." Puffing, Aunt Agatha halted at her nephew's door. That and the one adjoining were locked. There was a den beyond.
They had scented news as the eagle sights prey far below, and then swooped down on him. He continued his flight shaking off their harrying questions, but they kept up the running fight and at the door one of them reached his side with: "It's Mr. Woodbury of the Westfall Polo Club, son of Mr. John Woodbury of Anson Place?"
The Baron coldly heard the passionate avowal through to the end. "And the Princess Phaedra?" he begged formally. "What of her? What of the marriage that is to dissolve the bitter feud of a century between Houdania and Galituria, this marriage to which already you are informally bound?" "It is nothing to me. I shall marry Miss Westfall." "So!" The Baron matched his heavy fingertips. "So!
If worst comes to worst, so that we can neither communicate with Brandon and Westfall nor leave here under our own power even that is nothing to kill ourselves about. And yes, I do know exactly what we are facing. I have been prepared for it ever since I first saw what a perfectly impossible thing you are attempting.
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