The Gentleman from Indiana - Page 51/212

"I'm glad to see you, Mr. Watts," said the journalist, cordially. "Also,

if you are running with the circus and calculate on doing business here

to-day, I'll have to see that you are fired out of town before noon. How

are you? You're looking extremely well."

"Mr. Harkless," answered Watts, "I cherish no hard feelings, and I never

said but what you done exactly right when I left, three years ago. No,

sir; I'm not here in a professional way at all, and I don't want to be

molested. I've connected myself with an oil company, and I'm down here to

look over the ground. It beats poker and fan-tan hollow, though there

ain't as many chances in favor of the dealer, and in oil it's the farmer

that gets the rake-off. I've come back, but in an enterprising spirit this

time, to open up a new field and shed light and money in Carlow. They told

me never to show my face here again, but if you say I stay, I guess I

stay. I always was sure there was oil in the county, and I want to prove

it for everybody's benefit. Is it all right?"

"My dear fellow," laughed the young man, shaking the gambler's hand again,

"it is all right. I have always been sorry I had to act against you.

Everything is all right! Stay and bore to Corea if you like. Did ever you

see such glorious weather?"

"I'll let you in on some shares," Watts called after him as he turned

away. He nodded in reply and was leaving the room when Cynthia detained

him by a flourish of the fly-brush. "Say," she said,--she always called

him "Say"--"You've forgot your flower."

He came back, and thanked her. "Will you pin it on for me, Charmion?"

"I don't know what call you got to speak to me out of my name," she

responded, looking at the floor moodily.

"Why?" he asked, surprised.

"I don't see why you want to make fun of me."

"I beg your pardon, Cynthia," he said gravely. "I didn't mean to do that.

I haven't been considerate. I didn't think you'd be displeased. I'm very

sorry. Won't you pin it on my coat?"

Her face was lifted in grateful pleasure, and she began to pin the rose to

his lapel. Her hands were large and red and trembled. She dropped the

flower, and, saying huskily, "I don't know as I could do it right," seized

violently upon a pile of dishes and hurried from the room.