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Updated: May 31, 2025
As Jack and Firio came within hailing distance, both Prather and Nogales glanced at them sharply; but no word was spoken on either side. The absence of any call between these isolated voyagers of the desert sea was strangely unlike the average desert meeting. Prather and Nogales did not look back again, not even when Jack and Firio were very near.
"Only a few days after I wrote you, the Doge and Mary suddenly started for New York. Maybe he has looked you up." We practically don't know anything; but I've sure got a feeling of that uncertainty in the atmosphere that I used to have before a cyclone when I lived in Kansas. This Prather, that so many thought at first looked like you, has also gone to New York. "He left only two days ago.
"How are you getting on?" he asked. "Very well; very well indeed, considering my breakfast," Prather responded unexpectedly. "I have done seventeen hundred words, to-day." "Really?" Opdyke's accent concealed the fact that he had no idea whether the record was great or small. Then he yielded to his curiosity. "But what has your breakfast to do about it, Prather?"
And Prather was very frank about his past. "I have led rather a hard life," he said. "Though I was well brought up my father left mother and me quite penniless. I had to fend for myself at the age of sixteen. A friend gave me an opportunity to go to Goldfield at the outbreak of the excitement there. The rough experience of a mining-camp was not exactly to my taste, but it meant a livelihood.
Prather makes up his iniquitous debauches after the same recipe: absorbing the yellow journals and the orange output of his fellow novelists, going down to New York for a week end, and then coming home to embody in a novel his consequent attack of biliousness." "You've read his last one?" Dolph nodded. "And therefore I know whereof I speak," he added gloomily.
With John Prather out of the way, he had decided on an outright falsehood to his son. Why had he not compromised with Dr. Bennington's advice and tried part falsehood and part contrition? But no matter, no matter. He would go on; he was made of steel. Again the tanned face and broad shoulders stood between him and the page. Jack was strong; yes, strong; and he was worth having.
Government letters. He went over and forced them into the tightly packed coal stove. All the trash would be burned out in the cold weather. Collins sat down and looked through the rest of his mail. A new catalogue of electronic parts. A bulky envelope with two paperback novels by Richard S. Prather and Robert Bloch he had ordered. A couple of letters from hams.
What the deuce is the mystery?" "What why, of course you're the most interested party and the only Little Riversite that don't know about it, seh!" After all, there was some compensation for early rising. Bob expanded with the privilege of being the first to break the news. "If you'd come yesterday you'd have seen him. He went by the noon train," he said, and proceeded with the story of Prather.
At times he gave Jack covert glances out of the tail of his eye and saw Jack's face white and drawn and his head lowered. Now Prather became the victim so he would have put it, no doubt of another outburst of feeling. "But it was not like having the store!" he said. "No, my heart was in the store; and that morning when you saw me looking down from the gallery I was permitting myself to dream.
When he went to New York all that remained was for him to obtain the capital for his scheme. Lefferts and his partners had the underlying rights and the Doge the later rights, thanks to his improvements, and Prather has them both. Well, Leddy and his crowd have been taking up plots right and left; that's their share in the exploitation.
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