The little crowd was not through with its survey, but the eye of the imposing10 stranger abashed11 it. He had one of those long somber12 faces which Scotchmen call "dour13." The complexion14 was sallow, heavy pouches15 of sleeplessness16 lay beneath his eyes, and there were ridges17 beside the corners of his mouth which came from an habitual18 compression of the lips. Looked at in profile he seemed to be smiling broadly so that the gravity of the full face was always surprising. It was this that made the townsfolk look down. After a moment, they glanced back at him hastily. Somewhere about the corners of his lips or his eyes there was a glint of interest, a touch of amusement—they could not tell which, but from that moment they were willing to forget the clothes and look at the man.
While Ben Connor was still enjoying the situation, a rotund fellow bore down on him.
"You're Mr. Connor, ain't you? You wired for a room in the hotel? Come on, then. My rig is over here. These your grips?"
He picked up the suit case and the soft leather traveling bag, and led the way to a buckboard at which stood two downheaded ponies19.
"Can't we walk?" suggested Ben Connor, looking up and down the street at the dozen sprawling20 frame houses; but the fat man stared at him with calm pity. He was so fat and so good-natured that even Ben Connor did not impress him greatly.
"Maybe you think this is Lukin?" he asked.
When the other raised his heavy black eyebrows21 he explained: "This ain't nothing but Lukin Junction. Lukin is clear round the hill. Climb in, Mr. Connor."
Connor laid one hand on the back of the seat, and with a surge of his strong shoulders leaped easily into his place; the fat man noted22 this with a roll of his little eyes, and then took his own place, the old wagon23 careening toward him as he mounted the step. He sat with his right foot dangling24 over the side of the buckboard, and a plump shoulder turned fairly upon his passenger so that when he spoke25 he had to throw his head and jerk out the words; but this was apparently26 his time-honored position in the wagon, and he did not care to vary it for the sake of conversation. A flap of the loose reins27 set the horses jog-trotting out of Lukin Junction down a gulch29 which aimed at the side of an enormous mountain, naked, with no sign of a village or even a single shack30 among its rocks. Other peaks crowded close on the right and left, with a loftier range behind, running up to scattered31 summits white with snow and blue with distance. The shadows of the late afternoon were thick as fog in the gulch, and all the lower mountains were already dim so that the snow-peaks in the distance seemed as detached, and high as clouds. Ben Connor sat with his cane between his knees and his hands draped over its amber head and watched those shining places until the fat man heaved his head over his shoulder.
"Most like somebody told you about Townsend's Hotel?"
His passenger moved his attention from the mountain to his companion. He was so leisurely32 about it that it seemed he had not heard.
"Yes," he said, "I was told of the place."
"Who?" said the other expectantly.
"A friend of mine."
The fat man grunted33 and worked his head around so far that a great wrinkle rolled up his neck close to his ear. He looked into the eye of the stranger.
"Me being Jack34 Townsend, I'm sort of interested to know things like that; the ones that like my place and them that don't."
Connor nodded, but since he showed no inclination35 to name his friend, Jack Townsend swung on a new tack36 to come to the windward of this uncommunicative guest. Lukin was a fairly inquisitive37 town, and the hotel proprietor38 usually contributed his due portion and more to the gossips.
"Some comes for one reason and some for another," went on Townsend, "which generally it's to hunt and fish. That ain't funny come to think of it, because outside of liars39 nobody ever hooked finer trout40 than what comes out of the Big Sandy. Some of 'em comes for the mining—they was a strike over to South Point last week—and some for the cows, but mostly it's the fishing and the hunting."
He paused, but having waited in vain he said directly: "I can show you the best holes in the Big Sandy."
There was another of those little waits with which, it seemed, the stranger met every remark; not a thoughtful pause, but rather as though he wondered if it were worth while to make any answer.
"I've come here for the silence," he said.
"Silence," repeated Townsend, nodding in the manner of one who does not understand.
Then he flipped41 the roan with the butt42 of his lines and squinted43 down the gulch, for he felt there might be a double meaning in the last remark. Filled with the gloomy conviction that he was bringing a silent man to his hotel, he gloomily surveyed the mountain sides. There was nothing about them to cheer him. The trees were lost in shadows and all the slopes seemed quite barren of life. He vented44 a little burst of anger by yanking at the rein28 of the off horse, a dirty gray.
"Giddap, Kitty, damn your eyes!"
The mare45 jumped, struck a stone with a fore46 foot, and stumbled heavily. Townsend straightened her out again with an expert hand and cursed.
"Of all the no-good hosses I ever see," he said, inviting47 the stranger to share in his just wrath48, "this Kitty is the outbeatingest, no good rascal49. Git on, fool."
"And yet she has points. Now, I ask you, did you ever see a truer Steeldust? Look at that high croup and that straight rump. Look at them hips51, I say, and a chest to match 'em. But they ain't any heart in her. Take a hoss through and through," he went on oracularly, "they're pretty much like men, mostly, and if a man ain't got the heart inside, it don't make no difference how big around the chest he measures."
Ben Connor had leaned forward, studying the mare.
"Your horse would be all right in her place," he said. "Of course, she won't do up here in the mountains."
Like any true Westerner of the mountain-desert, Jack Townsend would far rather have been discovered with his hand in the pocket of another man than be observed registering surprise. He looked carefully ahead until his face was straight again. Then he turned.
"Where d'you make out her place to be?" he asked carelessly.
"Down below," said the other without hesitation52, and he waved his arm. "Down in soft, sandy irrigation country she'd be a fine animal."
Jack Townsend blinked. "You know her?" he asked.
The other shook his head.
"Well, damn my soul!" breathed the hotel proprietor. "This beats me. Maybe you read a hoss's mind, partner?"
Connor shrugged53 his shoulders, but Townsend no longer took offense54 at the taciturnity of his companion; he spoke now in a lower confiding55 voice which indicated an admission of equality.
"You're right. They said she was good, and she was good! I seen her run; I saddled her up and rode her thirty miles through sand that would of broke the heart of anything but a Steeldust, and she come through without battin' an eye. But when I got her up here she didn't do no good. But"—he reverted56 suddenly to his original surprise—"how'd you know her? Recognize the brand, maybe?"
"By her trot," said the other, and he looked across the hills.
They had turned an angle of the gulch, and on a shelf of level ground, dishing out from the side of the mountain, stretched the town.
"Isn't it rather odd," said Connor, "for people to build a town over here when they could have it on the railroad?"
"Maybe it looks queer to some," nodded Townsend.
He closed his lips firmly, determined57 to imitate the terseness58 of his guest; but when he observed with a side-glance that Connor would not press the inquiry59, talk suddenly overflowed60. Indeed, Townsend was a running well of good nature, continually washing all bad temper over the brim.
"I'll show you how it was," he went on. "You see that shoulder of the mountain away off up there? If the light was clearer you'd be able to make out some old shacks61 up there, half standin' up and half fallin' down. That's where Lukin used to be. Well, the railroad come along and says: 'We're goin' to run a spur into the valley, here. You move down and build your town at the end of the track and we'll give you a hand bringing up new timber for the houses.' That's the way with railroads; they want to dictate62; they're too used to handlin' folks back East that'll let capital walk right over their backs."
Here Townsend sent a glance at Connor to see if he stirred under the spur, but there was no sign of irritation63.
"Out here we're different; nobody can't step in here and run us unless he's asked. See? We said, you build the railroad halfway64 and we'll come the other half, but we won't come clear down into the valley."
"Why?" asked Connor. "Isn't Lukin Junction a good place for a village?"
"Fine. None better. But it's the principle of the thing, you see? Them railroad magnates says to us: 'Come all the way.' 'Go to the devil,' says we. And so we come halfway to the new railroad and built our town; it'd be a pile more agreeable to have Lukin over where the railroad ends—look at the way I have to drive back and forth65 for my trade? But just the same, we showed that railroad that it couldn't talk us down."
He struck his horses savagely66 with the lines; they sprang from the jog-trot into a canter, and the buckboard went bumping down the main street of Lukin.
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1
spats
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| n.口角( spat的名词复数 )；小争吵；鞋罩；鞋套v.spit的过去式和过去分词( spat的第三人称单数 )；口角；小争吵；鞋罩 | |
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2
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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3
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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4
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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7
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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8
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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10
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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11
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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13
dour
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| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
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14
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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15
pouches
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| n.（放在衣袋里或连在腰带上的）小袋( pouch的名词复数 )；（袋鼠等的）育儿袋；邮袋；（某些动物贮存食物的）颊袋 | |
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sleeplessness
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| n.失眠，警觉 | |
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ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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18
habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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20
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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21
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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22
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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23
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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24
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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25
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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26
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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27
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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28
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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gulch
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| n.深谷，峡谷 | |
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30
shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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31
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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32
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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33
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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34
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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35
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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36
tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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37
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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38
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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39
liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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40
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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41
flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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42
butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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43
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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44
vented
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| 表达，发泄（感情，尤指愤怒）( vent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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45
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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46
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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47
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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48
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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49
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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50
puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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51
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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52
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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53
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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54
offense
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| n.犯规，违法行为；冒犯，得罪 | |
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55
confiding
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| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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56
reverted
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| 恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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57
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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58
terseness
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| 简洁，精练 | |
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59
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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60
overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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61
shacks
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| n.窝棚，简陋的小屋( shack的名词复数 ) | |
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62
dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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63
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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64
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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65
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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66
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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