Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія

           Derrick,itisterrible—intoanawfulrage,cursing,swearing,grindinghisteeth,hishandsclenchedoverhishead,stampingsothatthehouseshakes,andsayingthatifS.Behrmandon’tgivehimbackhismoney,hewillkillhimwithhistwohands.Butthatisn’ttheworst,Mr.Derrick.HegoestoMr.Caraher’ssaloonnow,andstaysthereforhours,andlistenstoMr.Caraher.Thereissomethingonmyson’smind;Iknowthereis—somethingthatheandMr.Caraherhavetalkedovertogether,andIcan’tfindoutwhatitis.Mr.Caraherisabadman,andmysonhasfallenunderhisinfluence.”Thetearsfilledhereyes.Bravely,sheturnedtohidethem,turningawaytotakeSidneyinherarms,puttingherheaduponthelittlegirl’sshoulder.

           “I—Ihaven’tbrokendownbefore,Mr.Derrick,”shesaid,“butafterwehavebeensohappyinourlittlehouse,justusthree—andthefutureseemedsobright—oh,Godwillpunishthegentlemenwhoowntherailroadforbeingsohardandcruel.”

           Harrancameoutontheporch,fromthetelephone,andsheinterruptedherself,fixinghereyeseagerlyuponhim.

           “Ithinkitisallright,Mrs.Dyke,”hesaid,reassuringly.“Weknowwhereheis,Ibelieve.Youandthelittletadstayhere,andHoovenandIwillgoafterhim.”

           Abouttwohourslater,HarranbroughtDykebacktoLosMuertosinHooven’swagon.HehadfoundhimatCaraher’ssaloon,verydrunk.

           TherewasnothingmaudlinaboutDyke’sdrunkenness.Inhimthealcoholmerelyrousedthespiritofevil,vengeful,reckless.