Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter II
Theyain’toughttohavedonethat.Idon’tknowwhoI’mtogettorunthedairyonsuchshortnotice.Doyouknowanyone,Mr.Annixter?”
“Well,whyinhelldidyouletthemgo?”vociferatedAnnixter.“Whydidn’tyoukeepthemheretillIgotback?Whydidn’tyoufindoutiftheyweregoingforgood?Ican’tbeeverywhere.WhatdoIfeedyouforifitain’ttolookafterthingsIcan’tattendto?”
Heturnedonhisheelandstrodeawaystraightbeforehim,notcaringwherehewasgoing.Hetrampedoutfromthegroupofranchbuildings;holdingonovertheopenreachofhisranch,histeethset,hisheelsdiggingfuriouslyintotheground.Theminutespassed.Hewalkedonswiftly,mutteringtohimselffromtimetotime.
“Gone,bytheLord.Gone,bytheLord.BytheLordHarry,she’sclearedout.”
Asyethisheadwasemptyofallthought.Hecouldnotsteadyhiswitstoconsiderthisnewturnofaffairs.Hedidnoteventry.
“Gone,bytheLord,”heexclaimed.“BytheLord,she’sclearedout.”
Hefoundtheirrigatingditch,andthebeatenpathmadebytheditchtendersthatborderedit,andfolloweditsomefiveminutes;thenstruckoffatrightanglesovertheruggedsurfaceoftheranchland,towhereagreatwhitestonejuttedfromtheground.Therehesatdown,andleaningforward,restedhiselbowsonhisknees,andlookedoutvaguelyintothenight,histhoughtsswiftlyreadjustingthemselves.
Hewasalone.Thesilenceofthenight,theinfinitereposeoftheflat,bareearth—twoimmensities—widenedaroundandabovehimlikeillimitableseas.
