Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter II
Hemetfriendseverywhere,inthePostOffice,inthedrugstore,inthebarbershopandaroundthecourt-house.Witheachoneheheldamoment’sconversation;almostinvariablythisendedinthesameway:
“Comeon’nhaveadrink.”
“Well,Idon’tcareifIdo.”
AndthefriendsproceededtotheYosemitebar,pledgingeachotherwithpunctiliousceremony.Dyke,however,wasastrictlytemperateman.Hislifeontheenginehadtrainedhimwell.Alcoholhenevertouched,drinkinginsteadgingerale,sarsaparilla-and-iron—softdrinks.
Atthedrugstore,whichalsokeptastockofmiscellaneousstationery,hiseyewascaughtbya“transparentslate,”achild’stoy,whereuponalittlepaneoffrostedglassonecouldtracewithconsiderableelaborationoutlinefiguresofcows,ploughs,bunchesoffruitandevenruralwatermillsthatwereprintedonslipsofpaperunderneath.
“Now,there’sanidea,Jim,”heobservedtotheboybehindthesoda-waterfountain;“Iknowalittletadthatwouldjustaboutjumpoutofherskinforthat.ThinkI’llhavetotakeitwithme.”
“How’sSidneygettingalong?”theotherasked,whilewrappingupthepackage.
Dyke’senthusiasmhadmadeofhislittlegirlacelebritythroughoutBonneville.
Theex-engineerpromptlybecamevoluble,assertive,doggedlyemphatic.
“SmartestlittletadinallTulareCounty,andmorefun!Aregularwholeshowinherself.”
“Andthehops?”inquiredtheother.
“Bully,”declaredDyke,withthegood-naturedman’sreadinesstotalkofhisprivateaffairstoanyonewhowouldlisten.“Bully.
