Спрут: Калифорнийская история
Chapter IX
Butafewweeksagohecouldnotthushavefacedthegreatenemyofthefarmerswithoutagustofblindrageblowingtempestuousthroughallhisbones.Now,however,hefoundtohissurprisethathisfuryhadlapsedtoaprofoundcontempt,inwhichtherewasbitterness,butnotruculence.Hewastired,tiredtodeathofthewholebusiness.
“Yes,”heanswereddeliberately,“Iamgoingaway.Youhaveruinedthisplaceforme.Icouldn’tliveherewhereIshouldhavetoseeyou,ortheresultsofwhatyouhavedone,wheneverIstirredoutofdoors.”
“Nonsense,Presley,”answeredtheother,refusingtobecomeangry.“That’sfoolishness,thatkindoftalk;though,ofcourse,Iunderstandhowyoufeel.Iguessitwasyou,wasn’tit,whothrewthatbombintomyhouse?”
“Itwas.”
“Well,thatdon’tshowanycommonsense,Presley,”returnedS.Behrmanwithperfectaplomb.“Whatcouldyouhavegainedbykillingme?”
“NotsomuchprobablyasyouhavegainedbykillingHarranandAnnixter.Butthat’sallpassednow.You’resafefromme.”Thestrangenessofthistalk,theoddityofthesituationburstuponhimandhelaughedaloud.“Itdon’tseemasthoughyoucouldbebroughttobook,S.Behrman,byanybody,orbyanymeans,doesit?Theycan’tgetatyouthroughthecourts,—thelawcan’tgetyou,Dyke’spistolmissedfireforjustyourbenefit,andyouevenescapedCaraher’ssixinchesofpluggedgaspipe.Justwhatarewegoingtodowithyou?”
“Bestgiveitup,Pres,myboy,”returnedtheother.“Iguessthereain’tanythingcantouchme.
