Chapter 36 - Page 2

caressed them all with his affectionate tongue.
I tramped along in voiceless misery whilst the cattle question was up;
when I could endure it no longer, I used to deftly insert a scientific topic
into the conversation; then my eye fired and his faded; my tongue fluttered,
his stopped; life was a joy to me, and a sadness to him.

One day he said, a little hesitatingly, and with somewhat of diffidence--

'Triangle, would you mind coming down to my stateroom a minute,
and have a little talk on a certain matter?'

I went with him at once. Arrived there, he put his head out, glanced up
and down the saloon warily, then closed the door and locked it.
He sat down on the sofa, and he said--

'I'm a-going to make a little proposition to you, and if it strikes
you favorable, it'll be a middling good thing for both of us.
You ain't a-going out to Californy for fun, nuther am I--
it's business, ain't that so? Well, you can do me a good turn,
and so can I you, if we see fit. I've raked and scraped and saved,
a considerable many years, and I've got it all here.'
He unlocked an old hair trunk, tumbled a chaos of shabby
clothes aside, and drew a short stout bag into view for a moment,
then buried it again and relocked the trunk. Dropping his voice
to a cautious low tone, he continued, 'She's all there--a round
ten thousand dollars in yellow-boys; now this is my little idea:
What I don't know about raising cattle, ain't worth knowing.
There's mints of money in it, in Californy. Well, I know,
and you know, that all along a line that 's being surveyed,
there 's little dabs of land that they call "gores," that fall
to the surveyor free gratis for nothing. All you've got to do,
on your side, is to survey in such a way that the "gores" will fall
on good fat land, then you turn 'em over to me, I stock 'em with cattle,
in rolls the cash, I plank out your share of the dollars regular,
right along, and--'

I was sorry to wither his blooming enthusiasm, but it could not be helped.
I interrupted, and said severely--

'I am not that kind of a surveyor. Let us change the subject, Mr. Backus.'

It was pitiful to see his confusion and hear his awkward
and shamefaced apologies. I was as much distressed as he was--
especially as he seemed so far from having suspected
that there was anything improper in his proposition.
So I hastened to console him and lead him on to forget his
mishap in a conversational orgy about cattle and butchery.
We were lying at Acapulco; and, as we went on deck, it happened
luckily that the crew were just beginning to hoist some beeves
aboard in slings. Backus's melancholy vanished instantly,
and with it the memory of his late mistake.

'Now only look at that!' cried