"Why," drawled that individual, "I've been looking down men's throats
and watching their Adam's apple and listening to them guzzling their
liquor for something like twenty years now and I wouldn't mind a
change. I left the city because I was hankering for something I didn't
know the name of. Thought I'd find it here. Thought this was a mighty
restful town. It is--but not for me and my business. But I'm glad I
came, for that young parson of yours put me next to what I really want
to do. I've been wanting all my life to run a stock farm. But I
didn't know it till that kid preacher told me so. Seems he's been
knocking around the country with Hank Lolly and knows of two or three
that are up for sale. I'm going out with him next week to look at
them. So this town running dry won't upset me any. I've just about
made up my mind to quit this game and spend the rest of my life
with--cattle. I won't mind the dryness. I don't drink. Never have."
The rain that had been threatening for an hour came suddenly, came down
in big angry drops; and there was everywhere in town a scurrying for
home. Men buttoned their coats and bent their heads and hurried home,
hoping to find there cheerful wives and peace.
They found their wives cheerful enough, almost suspiciously so, and
exceedingly busy with the telephone.
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