Nerve-racking delay met him at the ranch. The woman and two small children were there, but the man (Ben Thompson was his name) had left that morning for Las Vegas in the car. Monty was too late by about four hours.
He ate dinner there, fed his horses hay and grain, watered them the last minute and started out again, still hoping that some car would be traveling that way. But luck was against him and he was forced to camp that night thirty miles out from Las Vegas.
Long before daylight he was up and on his way again, to take advantage of the few hours before the intense heat of the day began. Jazz was going lame2, traveling barefooted at the forced pace Monty required of him. It was nearly five o’clock when he limped into town with the dusty pack roped upon his sweat-encrusted back.
Monty went directly to the depot3 and climbed the steep stairs to the telegraph office, his spur rowels burring along the boards. He leaned heavily upon the shelf outside the grated window while he wrote two messages with a hand that shook from exhaustion4.
The first was addressed to the sheriff of Nye County, notifying him that a man had disappeared in Johnnywater Cañon and that it looked like murder. The other read as follows:
“P. Connolly,
Los Angeles, Calif.
“Gary Marshall mysteriously missing from Johnnywater evidence points to foul6 play suspect Hawkins wire instructions.
“M. Girard.”
Monty regretted the probable shock that message would give to Patricia, but he reasoned desperately7 that she would have to know the worst anyway, and that a telegram never permits much softening8 of a blow. She might know something about Hawkins that would be helpful. At any rate, he knew of no one so intimately concerned as Patricia.
He waited for his change, asked the operator to rush both messages straight through, and clumped9 heavily down the stairs. He remounted and made straight for the nearest stable and turned the horses over to the proprietor10 himself, who he knew would give them the best care possible. After that he went to a hotel, got a room with bath, took a cold plunge11 and crawled between the hot sheets with the window as wide open as it would go, and dropped immediately into the heavy slumber12 of complete mental and physical exhaustion.
While Monty was refreshing13 himself with the cold bath, Gary, squatted14 on his heels against the wall of his dungeon15, was fingering half of a hoarded16 biscuit and trying to decide whether he had better eat it now and turn a bold face toward starvation, or put it back in the lard bucket and let the thought of it torture him for a few more hours.
The telegram to the sheriff at Tonopah arrived while the sheriff was hunting down a murderer elsewhere. His deputy read the wire and speared it face down upon a bill-hook already half filled with a conglomerate17 mass of other communications. The deputy was not inclined to attach much significance to the message. He frequently remarked that if the sheriff’s office got all fussed up over every yarn18 that came in, the county would be broke inside a month paying mileage19 and salary to a dozen deputies. Monty had not said that a man had been murdered. He merely suspected something of the sort. The deputy slid down deeper into the armchair he liked best, cocked his feet higher on the desk and filled his pipe. Johnnywater Cañon and the possible fate of the man who had disappeared from there entered not at all into his somnolent20 meditations21.
The telegram to Patricia reached the main office in Los Angeles after five o’clock. The clerk who telephones the messages called up the office of the Consolidated22 Grain & Milling Company and got no reply after repeated ringing. Patricia’s telegram was therefore held until office hours the next morning. A messenger boy delivered it last, on his first trip out that way with half-a-dozen messages. The new stenographer23 was not at first inclined to take it, thinking there must be some mistake. The new manager was in conference with an important customer and she was afraid to disturb him with a matter so unimportant. And since she had quarreled furiously with the bookkeeper just the day before, she would not have spoken to him for anything on earth. So Patricia’s telegram lay on the desk until nearly noon.
At last the manager happened to stroll into the outer office and picked up the yellow envelope which had not been opened. Being half in love with Patricia—in spite of a wife—he knew at once who “P. Connolly” was. He was a conscientious24 man though his affections did now and then stray from his own hearthside. He immediately called a messenger and sent the telegram back to the main office with forwarding instructions.
At that time, Gary was standing25 before the sunny slit26 at the end of the crosscut, pounding doggedly27 with the single-jack at the corner of the rock wall. He had given up attempting to use the dulled drill as a gadget28. He could no longer strike with sufficient force to make the steel bite into the rock, nor could he land the blow accurately29 on the head of the drill.
The day before he had managed to crack off a piece of rock twice the width of his hand; and though it had broken too far inside the crosscut to accomplish much in the way of enlarging the opening, Gary was nevertheless vastly encouraged. He could now thrust out his hand to the elbow. He could feel the sun shine hot upon it at midday. He could feel the warm wind in his face when he held it pressed close against the open space. He could even smooth Faith’s sleek30 head when she scrambled31 upon the bowlder and peered in at him round-eyed and anxious. The world that day had seemed very close.
But to-day, while the telegram to Patricia was loitering in Los Angeles, the sky over Johnnywater was filled thick with clouds. Daylight came gray into the deep gloom of the crosscut. And Gary could not swing a steady blow, but pounded doggedly at the rock with quick, short-arm strokes like a woodpecker hammering at the bole of a dead tree.
He was obliged to stop often and rest, leaning against the wall with his hunger-sharpened profile like a cameo where the light shone in upon him. He would stand there and pant for a while and then lift the four-pound hammer—grown terribly heavy, lately—and go on pounding unavailingly at the rock.
点击收听单词发音
1 ranch | |
n.大牧场,大农场 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 lame | |
adj.跛的,(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 depot | |
n.仓库,储藏处;公共汽车站;火车站 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 exhaustion | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 cons | |
n.欺骗,骗局( con的名词复数 )v.诈骗,哄骗( con的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 desperately | |
adv.极度渴望地,绝望地,孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 softening | |
变软,软化 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 clumped | |
adj.[医]成群的v.(树、灌木、植物等的)丛、簇( clump的过去式和过去分词 );(土、泥等)团;块;笨重的脚步声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 proprietor | |
n.所有人;业主;经营者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 slumber | |
n.睡眠,沉睡状态 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 refreshing | |
adj.使精神振作的,使人清爽的,使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 squatted | |
v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 );非法擅自占用(土地或房屋);为获得其所有权;而占用某片公共用地。 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 dungeon | |
n.地牢,土牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 hoarded | |
v.积蓄并储藏(某物)( hoard的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 conglomerate | |
n.综合商社,多元化集团公司 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 yarn | |
n.纱,纱线,纺线;奇闻漫谈,旅行轶事 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 mileage | |
n.里程,英里数;好处,利润 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 somnolent | |
adj.想睡的,催眠的;adv.瞌睡地;昏昏欲睡地;使人瞌睡地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 meditations | |
默想( meditation的名词复数 ); 默念; 沉思; 冥想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 consolidated | |
a.联合的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 stenographer | |
n.速记员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 conscientious | |
adj.审慎正直的,认真的,本着良心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 slit | |
n.狭长的切口;裂缝;vt.切开,撕裂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 doggedly | |
adv.顽强地,固执地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 gadget | |
n.小巧的机械,精巧的装置,小玩意儿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 accurately | |
adv.准确地,精确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 sleek | |
adj.光滑的,井然有序的;v.使光滑,梳拢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 scrambled | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |