"
"Then hold your tongue, you young fool!" blazed out the old man. "But
don't ask me to hold my hand! I'm goin' after you tooth and big
toe-nail! If Ranch Number Ten ain't mine in all partic'lars before
you're a year older I want to know why!"
"I think," said the grandson, fighting with himself for calmness and
quiet speech, "that any further business I can take up with your
lawyer. Past due interest----"
"Lawyer?" thundered Packard senior. "Since when did I ever have call
for law an' lawyers in my play? Think I'm a crook, sir? Mean to
insinuate I'm a crook?"
"I mean nothing of the kind. A mortgage is a legal matter, the payment
of interest and principal----"
"Guy Little!" called the old man. "Guy Little! Goin' to stay under
that car all day?"
The mechanician promptly appeared, hands and face greasy and black and
took his place on the running-board.
"All ready, sir," he announced imperturbably.
With half-a-dozen strides his master reached the car; in as many
seconds the powerful engine was throbbing. The screaming horn gave
warning, the quiet herds in the valley heeded, lifted their heads and
stood at attention, ready to scamper this way or that as need arose.
The wheels turned, the car jolted over the inequalities presented by
the field, swerved sharply, turned, gathered speed and whizzed away
toward the valley road.
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