Part 8 (1/2)
Protest was unavailing.
When the others had hurried away, Pa Briskow said: ”I been studyin'
you, Mister Gray, and I got you down as a first-cla.s.s man. When Ma and Allie come over to Dallas to get rigged out, I'd like you to help 'em.
They 'ain't never been fu'ther from home than Cisco--that's thirty mile. I'll pay you for your time.”
Gray's hearty acceptance of the first and his prompt refusal of the second proposal pleased the speaker.
”Bein' rich is mighty fine, but--” Gus Briskow shook his head doubtfully. ”It takes a lot of thinkin', and I ain't used to thinkin'.
Some day, mebbe, I'll get you to give _me_ a hand in figgerin' out some worries.”
”Business worries?”
”No. I got enough of them, an' more comin', but it ain't that. We're goin' to have a heap of money, and”--he looked up with straightforward eyes--”we ain't goin' to lose it, if I have my way. We've rubbed along, half starved, all our lives, an' done without things till we're--Well, look at us! I reckon we've made you laugh. Oh, I bet we have! Ma an' me can stand it, but, mister, I don't want folks to laugh at my children, and there's other things I don't want to happen to 'em. Buddy's a wild hoss and he's got a streak of the Old Nick in him. And Allie ain't broke no better 'n him. I got a feelin' there may be trouble ahead, an'--sometimes I 'most wish we'd never had no oil in Texas.”
CHAPTER VI
”Well, did you land them hicks?” It was Gray's driver speaking. Through the gloom of early evening he was guiding his car back toward Ranger.
The road was the same they had come, but darkness had invested it with unfamiliar perils, or so it seemed, for the headlights threw every rock and ridge into bold relief and left the holes filled with mysterious shadows; the vehicle strained, its motor raced, its gears clashed noisily as it rocked along like a dory in a boisterous tide rip. Only now and then did a few rods of smooth going permit the chauffeur to take his attention from the streak of illumination ahead long enough to light another cigarette, a swift maneuver, the dexterity of which bespoke long practice.
”Yes. And I made a good sale,” the pa.s.senger declared. With pride he announced the size of the Briskow check.
”J'ever see a dame the size of that gal?” A short laugh issued from the driver. ”She'd clean up in vaudeville, wouldn't she? Why, she could lift a ton, in harness. And hoein' the garden, with their coin! It's like a woman I heard of: they got a big well on their farm and she came to town to do some shoppin'; somebody told her she'd ought to buy a present for her old man, so she got him a new handle for the ax.
_Gawd!_”
A few miles farther on the fellow confessed: ”I wasn't crazy about comin' for you to-night. Not after I got a flash at what's in that valise.”
”No?”
”You're takin' a chance, stranger.”
”Nothing new about that.” Gray remained unperturbed. His left arm was behind the driver; with it he clung rigidly to the back of the seat as the car plunged and rolled. ”Frequently we are in danger when we least suspect it. Now you, for instance.”
”Me?” The man at the wheel shot a quick glance at his fare.
”You probably take more chances than you dream of.”
”How so?”
”Um-m! These roads are a menace to life and limb; the country is infested with robbers--”
”Oh, sure! That's what I had in mind. Joy-ridin' at night with a hatful of diamonds is my idea of a sucker's amus.e.m.e.nt. Of course, we won't 'get it'--”
”Of course! One never does.”
”Sure! But if we should, there's just one thing to do.”
”Indeed?” Gray was pleasantly inquisitive, but it was plain that he suffered no apprehensions. ”And that is--?”