Yes, sir; you
have, for a fact." He glanced from the lithograph framed in gilt and red
plush--the two little girls at their prayers--to the "I'm Grandpa"
and "I'm Grandma" pictures, noted the clean white matting and the gay
worsted tidies over the chair backs, and appeared to contemplate in
ecstasy the framed photograph of McTeague and Trina in their wedding
finery.
"Well, you two are pretty happy together, ain't you?" said he, smiling
good-humoredly.
"Oh, we don't complain," answered Trina.
"Plenty of money, lots to do, everything fine, hey?"
"We've got lots to do," returned Trina, thinking to head him off, "but
we've not got lots of money."
But evidently Marcus wanted no money.
"Well, Cousin Trina," he said, rubbing his knee, "I'm going away."
"Yes, mamma wrote me; you're going on a ranch."
"I'm going in ranching with an English duck," corrected Marcus. "Mr.
Sieppe has fixed things. We'll see if we can't raise some cattle. I know
a lot about horses, and he's ranched some before--this English duck. And
then I'm going to keep my eye open for a political chance down there. I
got some introductions from the President of the Improvement Club. I'll
work things somehow, oh, sure.
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