Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter IX
Wethoughtwe’dbetterincreasethespeedofthecup-carrier,andpulleduptoputinasmallersprocket.”
S.Behrmannoddedtosaythatwasallright,andaddedaquestion.
“Howisshegoing?”
“Anywheresfromtwenty-fivetothirtysackstotheacrerightalonghere;nothingthematterwithTHATIguess.”
“Nothingintheworld,Bill.”
Oneofthesacksewersinterposed:
“Forthelasthalfhourwe’vebeenthrowingoffthreebagstotheminute.”
“That’sgood,that’sgood.”
Itwasmorethangood;itwas“bonanza,”andallthatdivisionofthegreatranchwasthickwithjustsuchwonderfulwheat.NeverhadLosMuertosbeenmoregenerous,neveraseasonmoresuccessful.S.Behrmandrewalongbreathofsatisfaction.Heknewjusthowgreatwashisshareinthelandswhichhadjustbeenabsorbedbythecorporationheserved,justhowmanythousandsofbushelsofthismarvellouscropwerehisproperty.Throughalltheseyearsofconfusion,bickerings,openhostilityand,atlast,actualwarfarehehadwaited,nursinghispatience,calmwiththefirmassuranceofultimatesuccess.Theend,atlength,hadcome;hehadenteredintohisrewardandsawhimselfatlastinstalledintheplacehehadsolong,sosilentlycoveted;sawhimselfchiefofaprincipality,theMasteroftheWheat.
Thesprocketadjusted,theengineercalledupthegangandthementooktheirplaces.Thefiremanstokedvigorously,thetwosacksewersresumedtheirpostsonthesackingplatform,puttingonthegogglesthatkeptthechafffromtheireyes.Theseparator-manandheader-mangrippedtheirlevers.
