The San Francisco call., 1899-04-16

this note for a long time, and. when at
length he spoke, 1t was with twitching
lip and unsteady voice.
What queer chap you are, George.
bottling this thing up. Why did you
do it?'
Because, young 'un"-and Fugard put
kindly hand on his friends shoulder
because l don't see the way out, and
well, you've kicked yourself enough over
the wretched business. Poor old Percy!
1t amt all jam being swtndling COM
panys agent, is it?'
But l swear. George
Yes, yes. We know all about that.
You were swindled, too. L"
.on my honor, George, didn't-
You didn't know. All right. all right;
don't excite yourself; I should hope you
didn't, indeed. Well, well, never mind.
No, no, you're not to blame, sonny You
little beast, Percy, you're snivelling!
ashamed Of yourself. Wish I could snivel
like that. though: must be relieving.
What was that? Santa Claus knocking
ing his friend a final kindly pat on the
shoulder, walked to the outside door, and,
opening 1t, let a flood of daylight and
A stern-faced. well-dressed man stood
on the doorstep, and close by was a
spring wagon with its wheels buried half
way up to the hubs in the fine white sand
of the sandhill on which the companys
office stood.
"Is this the city of San Pablo?" asked
the stranger.
That's what. This and that shanty
over there" answered Fugard. "A bit
sandy, isn't 2" he added, as a sudden
cloud Of sand blinded the strangers eyes.
"And is that the hay?" asked tho ~"U--
conner when he could see again. pointing
to a vast eXpanse OF Sandudnhs uIsectc,.
by a narrow channel of water and
stretching miles and miles to distant
line of sea-
That's what" answered Fugard again.
Thank you. Here is my card, and 1
want to see Mr.. Hodgson,' said the
Fugard took the card. Then his bitter
voice grew menacing as he said; See
here, Mr.. Sheath of London, you're going
to Gehenna If you like; but you don't stay
here to eat your heart out while I'm
around. You're a colonist, amt your
You've bought magnificent cattle
ranch in London, haven't your
Fugard looked at the man as though he
were monstrosity. Then he said, We'll,
then, what in thunder brings you here?"
Il want to see Mr.. Hodgson. Is he
here?"
Yes. Hes IN there, irrigating his in
side. Walk in. You're a phenomenon.
Mr. Sheath, and | congratulate you on 1t.
you've brought your own feed. That's
lucky. Not straw TO be had in the whole
city, and our nags expired in trying to ac-
commodate themselves, to the circum-
stances. Step right in
The stranger did So
After nearly an hour Of gentle, steady
work. Fugard left the horses with ca
ressing pat and made his way to the Of
fee again. He paused for a moment on the
doorstep and said: Percy waxeth elo-
quent to the stranger: Then he entered;
outrage, to send those fellows out here.
Hear, hear" said Fugard.
Glad you've come in, George" said the
boy as he excitedy strobe UP and down
on the debris-strewn floor. I've just
been telling Mr.. Sheath about the Bron-
GERS The company's busted, George. The
whole things a swindle. Sir Richard
Wecher is in quod and Mr. Sheath has
come out on behalf of the shareholders
the widows and orphans-to settle things
up. and take over the assets.
Take over the assets echoed Fugard.
That's good
81 have letter for the Broncers,' said
Sheath. How long have they been here?'
"Oh. about forty-I mean about two
years" answered Percy.
But why did they stay?" pursued
You don't know Willie Broncer;"' an
swered Percy again somewhat feebly.
Come. come, sir" said Sheath, 1T is
seems to me that you gentlemen take 1t
almost morbidly to heart. After all. you
are not responsible for
mo: but YOU see we have watched them
making their fight for it, interrupted
city by moonlight, will you? See that big
perched on its camel back? The Broncers
ranch is five miles behind that. Quite a
drive, eh?"
Then running back to the door, he
him. saying as he did so: There's COM
pany for you, young 'un. Good-by and
leave that whisky alone, will your" Then
Hodgson filled his glass and emptied it
many times as he sat in brooding dejec-
ton. The dog roamed uneasily about the
1nG elnn l,
dream? Well
Only a trickIe OF water remained in the
ruddy-colored bed of the Arroyo del
Diablo to reflect the burning thirsty rays
of a cloudless December sun, although
according to precedent, the stream should
have been madly rushing and swirling be-
tween those parched up banks, still lined
with the debris left by the torrent of more