Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія
Chapter VII
WastheRailroadtotriumphthenintheend?Afterallthosemonthsofpreparation,afterallthosegrandiloquentresolutions,afterallthearrogantpresumptionoftheLeague!TheLeague!whatafarce;whathaditamountedtowhenthecrisiscame?WastheTrusttocrushthemallsoeasily?WasS.BehrmantoswallowLosMuertos?S.Behrman!Presleysawhimplainly,huge,rotund,white;sawhisjowltremulousandobese,therolloffatoverhiscollarsprinkledwithsparsehairs,thegreatstomachwithitsbrownlinenvestandheavywatchchainofhollowlinks,clinkingagainstthebuttonsofimitationpearl.AndthismanwastocrushMagnusDerrick—hadalreadystampedthelifefromsuchmenasHarranandAnnixter.Thisman,inthenameoftheTrust,wastograbLosMuertosashehadgrabbedQuienSabe,andafterLosMuertos,Broderson’sranch,thenOsterman’s,thenothers,andstillothers,thewholevalley,thewholeState.
Presleybeathisforeheadwithhisclenchedfistasherodeon.
“No,”hecried,“no,killhim,killhim,killhimwithmyhands.”
Theideaofitputhimbesidehimself.Oh,tosinkhisfingersdeepintothewhite,fatthroatoftheman,toclutchlikeironintothegreatpuffedjowlofhim,towrenchoutthelife,tobatteritout,strangleitout,topayhimbackforthelongyearsofextortionandoppression,tosquareaccountsforbribedjurors,boughtjudges,corruptedlegislatures,tohavejusticeforthetrickoftheRanchers’RailroadCommission,thecharlatanismofthe“tenpercent.
