Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія

           But,furthermore,hewantedtofindtimetogotoGuadalajaratomeettheGovernoronthemorningtrain.Hisdaypromisedtobebusy.

           ButasHarranwasfinishinghislastcupofcoffee,Phelps,theforemanontheHomeranch,whoalsolookedafterthestoragebarnswheretheseedwaskept,presentedhimself,capinhand,onthebackporchbythekitchendoor.

           “IthoughtI’dspeaktoyouabouttheseedfromFour,sir,”hesaid.“Thathasn’tbeenbroughtinyet.”

           Harrannodded.

           “I’llseeaboutit.You’vegotalltheblue-stoneyouwant,haveyou,Phelps?”andwithoutwaitingforananswerheadded,“TellthestablemanIshallwanttheteamaboutnineo’clocktogotoGuadalajara.Puttheminthebuggy.Thebays,youunderstand.”Whentheotherhadgone,Harrandrankofftherestofhiscoffee,and,rising,passedthroughthedining-roomandacrossastone-pavedhallwaywithaglassroofintotheofficejustbeyond.

           Theofficewasthenerve-centreoftheentiretenthousandacresofLosMuertos,butitsappearanceandfurnishingswerenotintheleastsuggestiveofafarm.Itwasdividedataboutitsmiddlebyawirerailing,paintedgreenandgold,andbehindthisrailingwerethehighdeskswherethebookswerekept,thesafe,theletter-pressandletter-files,andHarran’stypewritingmachine.AgreatmapofLosMuertoswitheverywater-course,depression,andelevation,togetherwithindicationsofthevaryingdepthsoftheclaysandloamsinthesoil,accuratelyplotted,hungagainstthewallbetweenthewindows,whilenearathandbythesafewasthetelephone.