Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія
Chapter V
Theelectriccarline,thecity’sboast,didabriskbusiness,itscarswhirringfromendtoendofthestreet,withajanglingofbellsandamoaningplaintofgearing.OnthestonebulkheadsofthegrassplataroundthenewCityHall,theusualloaferssat,chewingtobacco,swappingstories.Intheparkweretheinevitablearrayofnursemaids,skylarkingcouples,andraggedlittleboys.Asinglepoliceman,ingreycoatandhelmet,friendandacquaintanceofeverymanandwomaninthetown,stoodbytheparkentrance,leaninganelbowonthefencepost,twirlinghisclub.
Butinthecentreofthebestbusinessblockofthestreetwasathree-storybuildingofroughbrownstone,setoffwithplateglasswindowsandgold-letteredsigns.Oneoftheselatterread,“PacificandSouthwesternRailroad,FreightandPassengerOffice,”whileanothermuchsmaller,beneaththewindowsofthesecondstoryboretheinscription,“P.andS.W.LandOffice.”
Annixterhitchedhishorsetotheironpostinfrontofthisbuilding,andtrampeduptothesecondfloor,lettinghimselfintoanofficewhereacoupleofclerksandbookkeeperssatatworkbehindahighwirescreen.Oneoftheselatterrecognisedhimandcameforward.
“Hello,”saidAnnixterabruptly,scowlingthewhile.“Isyourbossin?IsRugglesin?”
ThebookkeeperledAnnixtertotheprivateofficeinanadjoiningroom,usheringhimthroughadoor,onthefrostedglassofwhichwaspaintedthename,“CyrusBlakeleeRuggles.”Inside,amaninafrockcoat,shoestringnecktie,andStetsonhat,satwritingataroller-topdesk.
