Chapter 23 - Page 2

and though they are always very secretive about a thing like that, I happen to have a friend on the inside, so that my information is absolutely authentic. I have raised fifty thousand dollars among my good friends in Michigan, and I intend to start a first-class general store here. I have already bargained for ten acres of land over there on the creek, where I feel sure the main part of the town will be situated. If you will come in with me we will form a partnership, equal shares. It is borrowed capital," he added hastily, "so that I am not giving you anything, William. You will take the same risk I take, and--"

"Sorry, Dilly, but I couldn't come through. Fine counter-jumper I'd make! Thank yuh all the same, Dilly."

"But there is the Bridger place. I shall keep that and go into thoroughbred stock--good, middle-weight horses, I think, that will find a ready sale among the settlers who are going to flock in here. You could take charge there and--"

"No, Dilly, I couldn't. I--I'm thinking uh drifting down into New Mexico. I--I want to see that country, bad."

Dill crossed his long legs the other way, let his hands drop loosely, and stared wistfully at Billy. "I really wish I could induce you to stay, William," he murmured.

"Well, yuh can't. I hope yuh come through better than yuh did with the Double-Crank--but I guess it'll be some considerable time before the towns and the gentle farmer (damn him!) are crowded to the wall by your damn' Progress." It was the first direct protest against changing conditions which Billy had so far put into words, and he looked sorry for having said so much. "Oh, here's your little blue book," he added, feeling it in his pocket. "I found it behind the trunk when everything else was packed."

"You saw--er--you saw Bridger, then? He is going to take his wife and Flora up North with him in the spring. It seems he has done well."

"I know--he told me."

Dill turned the leaves of the book slowly, and consciously refrained from looking at Billy. "They were about to leave when I was there. It is a shame. I am very sorry for Flora--she does not want to go. If--" He cleared his throat again and guiltily pretended to be reading a bit, here and there, and to be speaking casually. "If I were a marrying man, I am not sure but I should make love to Flora--h-m-m!--this 'Bachelor's Complaint' here--have you read it, William? It is very--here, for instance--'Nothing is to me more distasteful than the entire complacency and satisfaction which beam in the countenances of a new-married couple'--and so on. I feel tempted sometimes when I look at Flora--only she looks upon me as a--er--piece of furniture--the kind that sticks out in the way and you have to feel your way around it in the dark--awkward, but necessary. Poor girl, she cried