I
wonder if he's going away."
"Who's going away?" said McTeague, blinking at her.
"Oh, go to bed," said Trina, pushing him goodnaturedly. "Mac, you're the
stupidest man I ever knew."
But it was true. Marcus was going away. Trina received a letter the next
morning from her mother. The carpet-cleaning and upholstery business in
which Mr. Sieppe had involved himself was going from bad to worse. Mr.
Sieppe had even been obliged to put a mortgage upon their house. Mrs.
Sieppe didn't know what was to become of them all. Her husband had even
begun to talk of emigrating to New Zealand. Meanwhile, she informed
Trina that Mr. Sieppe had finally come across a man with whom Marcus
could "go in with on a ranch," a cattle ranch in the southeastern
portion of the State. Her ideas were vague upon the subject, but she
knew that Marcus was wildly enthusiastic at the prospect, and was
expected down before the end of the month. In the meantime, could Trina
send them fifty dollars?
"Marcus IS going away, after all, Mac," said Trina to her husband
that day as he came out of his "Parlors" and sat down to the lunch of
sausages, mashed potatoes, and chocolate in the sitting-room.
"Huh?" said the dentist, a little confused.
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