The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-08-03

quickly down. Cannon gave a care
less look upward.
"Ah there, Gene" he observed, turn
him off with his coat. Come up to
town for spell?"
The young man did not seem to no
tice anything especially ungracious
in the greeting or probably was used
to IL.
yes, just up for look around and
TO see how you and Rosey were. Got
showed in, didn't your" he said, look
ing at his sister.
She kissed him affectionately and
drew him to the light where she sub
jected him to sharp, exploring scru-
tiny. Evidently the survey was sat
isfactory. for she gave him a little
slap on the shoulder and said:
Good boy. Gene, San Luis is agree
ing with you. Yes, we were showed
In for nearly three weeks. Papa's been
half crazy. And you've been in town
two days, Prescott says. 1t must have
been dull here all alone"
"Oh, haven't been dull. I've been
going round seeing the boys and
his sisters sudden, uneasy look
checked him and he answered 1t with
quick reinsurance Of glance and tone.
Everything strictly temperance. Don't
you get uneasy. I've lived up to my
promises. The ranch is mine all right,
father"
He had a high, rather throaty voice,
which, without seeing his face, would
have suggested weakness and lack Of
purpose. Now as he looked at his
father with slight and somewhat
foolish air Of triumph, the old man
responded to his remark with a sound
which resembled a grunt Of scornful
| incredulity.
Really. Gene" said his sister, her
manner of fond qualification in
marked contrast to her fathers rough
| ness, that's the best news I've heard
for year. It's worth being showed
up to hear that when you come out.
| OF course you'll get the ranch. I al
ways knew you would. I always knew
you could pull up and be as straight
as anybody If you tried"
|
off his rubbers, here raised his head
with bull-like movement, and sud-
denly roared at the retreating butler.
who was vanishing toward the dining
room
my cigars. Where in hell are they ?
Why doesn't somebody attend here:'
| The servant, with a start Of alarm
and a murmured excuse, disappeared
for a moment, to reappear. hurrying
breathlessly with a box Of cigars.
Cannon selected one and turned to
the stirway.
How long are you down far" he
said to his son as he began ascending.
| Il thought a week, perhaps two"
answered the young man. "a Teller
gets darned lonely, down there in the
country"
| There was something apologize, al.
most pleading In his words and way
Of speech. He looked after his ia.
theirs receding figure as II quite OBJ.
livious to the rudeness Of the large
retiring back and the manner Of care
less scorn.
Make it three" said the Bonanza
King, turning his head slightly and
throwing the sentence over his shout
der.
Gene Cannon was now Twenty-Five
years of age and had drunk since hi.
eighteenth year His mother had died
In ignorance Of his vice. When hii
father discovered 1t, 1t simply aug
mented the old mans impatienct
against the feeble youth who would
carry on his name and be one of the
lnheritors Of his fortune. Bill Can
non had never cared much for hi
only son. He had early seen the stuff
Of which the boy was made. "Doesn'
amount to hill Of BEANS" he would
say, throwing the words at his wifi,
over the bitten end Of his cigar HI
could have forgiven the drinking, a
he could other vices, If Gene had hat
some Of his own force, some of tina
! driving power which bad carried hin
triumphant over friend and foe. Blu
! the boy had no initiative, no brains
no energy. How did / ever come t,
have such a SOM" he queried some
times in an access Of disgust in whicl
. the surprise was stronger than tn
disgust. The question possessed
. sort Of scientific interest for hin
which was deeper than the persona
. and over which the disappointed mas
nate would ponder.
|