I was going to ask you."
"Close to fifty thousan' dollars, countin' back interest, unpaid.
More'n you ever saw in a day, I reckon."
Steve shrugged. This to hide his first inclination to whistle. Fifty
thousand--why, he didn't know Number Ten ranch was worth that much
money. But it must be worth a good deal more if his grandfather had
advanced so much on it.
"It is a nice little pile," he admitted carelessly.
The old man grunted, thrust his hands into his pockets, and drew deeply
at his stogie. Steve rolled a cigarette. In the silence falling upon
them they could hear the sound of the mechanician's wrench.
"Anything wrong with the car?" asked Steve for the sake of breaking
unpleasant silence.
"Not that I know of. He's jus' takin' a peek to make sure, I guess.
That's what he's for. He knows I got to get back to my place in a
couple of shakes."
Steve smiled; by wagon road his grandfather's ranch home was fifty
miles to the northward.
"You won't think of going back before noon."
"Won't I? But I will, though, son; Blenham's sticking aroun', waitin'
for my say-so what he'll do nex'." He snapped open a big watch and
stared at it a moment with pursed lips. "I'll be back home in jus' one
hour an' a half. All I got is fifteen minutes to talk with you this
mornin'."
"You mean that you can drive those fifty miles in an hour and a
quarter!"
"Have done it in less; if I was in a hurry I'd do it in an hour flat.
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