Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter VIII
It’sbrokenhim;oh,youshouldseehim,youshouldseehim.Ashambling,stooping,tremblingoldman,inhisdotagealready.Hesitsalldayinthedining-room,turningoverpapers,sortingthem,tyingthemup,openingthemagain,forgettingthem—allfumblingandmumblingandconfused.Andattablesometimesheforgetstoeat.And,listen,youknow,fromthehousewecanhearthetrainswhistlingfortheLongTrestle.AsoftenasthathappenstheGovernorseemstobe—oh,Idon’tknow,frightened.Hewillsinkhisheadbetweenhisshoulders,asthoughheweredodgingsomething,andhewon’tfetchalongbreathagaintillthetrainisoutofhearing.Heseemstohaveconceivedanabject,unreasonedterroroftheRailroad.”
“ButhewillhavetoleaveLosMuertosnow,ofcourse?”
“Yes,theywillallhavetoleave.Theyhaveafortnightmore.ThefewtenantsthatwerestillonLosMuertosareleaving.Thatisonethingthatbringsmetothecity.Thefamilyofoneofthemenwhowaskilled—Hoovenwashisname—havecometothecitytofindwork.Ithinktheyareliabletobeingreatdistress,unlesstheyhavebeenwonderfullylucky,andIamtryingtofindtheminordertolookafterthem.”
“Youneedlookingafteryourself,Pres.”
“Oh,onceawayfromBonnevilleandthesightoftheruinthere,I’mbetter.ButIintendtogoaway.Andthatmakesmethink,Icametoaskyouifyoucouldhelpme.Ifyouwouldletmetakepassageononeofyourwheatships.TheDoctorsaysanoceanvoyagewouldsetmeup.”
“Why,certainly,Pres,”declaredCedarquist.“ButI’msorryyou’llhavetogo.
