"Looks as if the Boss of Creation was in a hurry," said one of the eager
gazers in the doorway. "Somebody goin' to get smashed, sure."
"More like as if he was just humpin' himself to keep from getting
smashed," said Steptoe. "The bank hasn't got over the effect of their
smart deal in the Wheat Trust. Everything they had in their hands
tumbled yesterday in Sacramento. Men like me and you ain't goin' to
trust their money to be 'jockeyed' with in that style. Nobody but a man
with a swelled head like Stacy would have even dared to try it on. And
now, by G-d! he's got to pay for it."
The harsh, exultant tone of the speaker showed that he had quite
forgotten Van Loo and Hamlin in his superior hatred of the millionaire,
and both men noticed it. Van Loo edged still nearer to the door, as
Steptoe continued, "Ever since he made that big strike on Heavy Tree
five years ago, the country hasn't been big enough to hold him. But mark
my words, gentlemen, the time ain't far off when he'll find a two-foot
ditch again and a pick and grub wages room enough and to spare for him
and his kind of cattle."
"You're not drinking," said Jack Hamlin cheerfully.
Steptoe turned towards the bar, and then started. "Where's Van Loo?" he
demanded of Jack sharply.
Jack jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Gone to hurry up his girl, I
reckon. I calculate he ain't got much time to fool away here.
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