Some say he shook THEM, talked back to 'em mighty
sharp, and held his head a heap higher nor them. Anyhow, he's livin'
with his wife somewhere in 'Frisco, in a shanty on a sand lot, and
workin' odd jobs for the newspapers. No! takin' it by and large--it
don't look as if Harcourt had run his family to the same advantage that
he has his land."
"Perhaps he doesn't understand them as well," said the stranger smiling.
"Mor'n likely the material ain't thar, or ain't as vallyble for a new
country," said Peters grimly. "I reckon the trouble is that he lets them
two daughters run him, and the man who lets any woman or women do that,
lets himself in for all their meannesses, and all he gets in return is a
woman's result,--show!"
Here the stranger, who was slowly rising from his chair with the polite
suggestion of reluctantly tearing himself from the speaker's spell,
said: "And Harcourt spends most of his time in San Francisco, I
suppose?"
"Yes! but to-day he's here to attend a directors' meeting and the
opening of the Free Library and Tasajara Hall. I saw the windows open,
and the blinds up in his house across the plaza as I passed just now."
The stranger had by this time quite effected his courteous withdrawal.
"Good-afternoon, Mr. Peters," he said, smilingly lifting his hat, and
turned away.
Peters, who was obliged to take his legs off the chair, and half rise
to the stranger's politeness, here reflected that he did not know his
interlocutor's name and business, and that he had really got nothing
in return for his information.
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