Читать книгу Oil! - Upton Sinclair - Страница 39

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They drove back to camp, and it was coming on to sunset again, and the quail were calling all over the hills. They passed the horseman bringing in the cattle, and he stopped and had a chat about the earthquake, and then he rode on, his saddle and stirrup-straps going “Squnch, squnch.” And Dad said, “We’ll maybe buy that fellow out before night, and you can ride his horse.” And they went on, and presently came another fellow, this time on foot. He was a young chap, tall and lanky, but stooped as if he had hold of plow-handles; he was wearing country clothes and a straw hat, and he strode rapidly by them, staring hard at both of them, barely nodding in answer to Dad’s friendly “Good evening.” Dad remarked, “Queer-looking chap, that,” and Bunny retained an impression of a face, very serious, with a large prominent nose, and a broad mouth drooping at the corners.

They went on, and came to their camp, and built a fire, and got themselves a gorgeous supper, with a panful of quail and bacon, and hot cocoa, and toast made of the bread which Meelie and Sadie had brought in, and some canned peaches which Bunny had bought. And after supper Bunny saw Ruth down by the goat-pen, and he strolled over to meet her; she gazed about timidly, to make certain no one else was near, and then she whispered, “Paul was here!”

Bunny started, amazed. “Paul?” And then suddenly the truth flashed over him. “That was Paul we passed on the road!” He described the figure to Ruth, and she said yes, that had been Paul; he had taken a “hitch-hike” to see her, as he had promised, and he had brought her fifteen dollars saved from his earnings. “I told him we didn’t have no need for it now; but he left it.”

Then Bunny cried: “Oh, why didn’t he stop and talk to Dad and me? He barely nodded to us!”

Ruth was evidently embarrassed; it was hard to get her to talk about Paul any more. But Bunny persisted, he was so anxious to know Paul, he said, and it seemed as if Paul didn’t like him. Only then was Ruth moved to tell him what Paul had said. “He was mad because Pap had sold the ranch. He says we hadn’t ought to done it.”

“But what else could you do?”

“He says we’d ought to sell the goats, and pay the bank, and raise strawberries, like some o’ the folks is doin’ here. We could git along and be independent—”

“Paul is so proud!” cried Bunny. “He’s so afraid of charity!”

“No, it ain’t exactly that,” said Ruth.

“What is it then?”

“Well—it ain’t very polite to talk about—” Ruth was embarrassed again.

“What is it, Ruth? I want to try to understand Paul.”

“Well, he says your Pap is a big oil man, and he says there’s oil on this ranch, and you know it, for he told you so.”

There was a silence.

“Is your Pap an oil man?”

Bunny forced himself to answer. “Dad’s a business man; he buys land, and all kinds of things. He has a general store, and he buys machinery, and lends money.” That was what Dad had ordered him to say, and it was strictly the truth, as we know; and yet Bunny considered himself a liar while he said it. He was misleading Ruth—gentle, innocent, trusting Ruth, with the wide, candid eyes and the kind, sweet features; Ruth, who was incapable of a hateful thought or a selfish impulse, whose whole life was to be one long immolation in the cause of the brother she loved! Oh, why did it happen that he had to practice deception upon Ruth?

They talked about Paul some more. He had sat up in the hills most of the afternoon and told his sister about himself. He was getting along all right, he said; he had got a job with an old lawyer who didn’t mind his having run away from home, but would help him to keep hidden. This lawyer was what was called a free-thinker—he said you had a right to believe whatever you chose, and Paul was his gardener and handy man, and the old lawyer gave him books to read, and Paul was getting educated. It sounded wonderful, and terrible at the same time—Paul had read a book about the Bible, that showed it was nothing but old Hebrew history and fairy-tales, and full of contradictions and bloody murders and fornications, and things that there was no sense calling God’s word. And Paul wanted Ruth to read it, and Ruth was in an agony of concern—but Bunny noticed it was Paul’s soul she was afraid for, and not her own!

Then Bunny went back to Dad, and told him that was Paul they had passed on the road; and Dad said “Indeed?” and repeated that he was a “queer looking chap.” Dad wasn’t interested, he had no slightest inkling of Bunny’s distress of soul; his thoughts were all on the great discovery, and the deals he was putting through. He lay on his back, with a pillow under his head, gazing up at the stars. “There’s one thing sure, son”—and there was laughter in his voice; “either you and me move up to front row seats in the oil-game, or else, by golly, we’ll be the goat and sheep kings of California!”