Page:Caroline Lockhart--The Fighting Shepherdess.djvu/333

 come more self-centered and absorbed in her work, her Interest in the " outside " gradually had died. She told herself indifferently that there was time enough to gratify her curiosity.

She sighed as she watched the town fade and then a snowflake, featherlike and moist, swirled under the projecting roof and melted on her cheek, to recall her to herself. She swung out over the step and looked to the east where the clouds hung sagging with their weight. Yes, it was well that she had come.

Behind the plate-glass window of the Security State Bank its president stood with his hands thrust deep in his trousers' pockets watching the long train as, with much belching of smoke, It climbed the slight grade. There were moments when Mr. Wentz cursed the Fate that had promoted him from his washing machine, and this was one of them.

Neifkins, hunched in a leather chair In the banker's office, had an obstinate look on his sunburned face.

"I'd give about half I'm worth If that was your stock goin' out," said Wentz, as he reseated himself at his desk.

Neifkins grunted.

"I heard you the first time you said that." The stub- born look on his face increased. " When I'm ready to ship, I'll ship. I know what I'm about — ME."

Wentz did not look impressed by the boast.

Neifkins added in a surly tone:

" I don't need no petticoat to show me how to handle sheep."

Wentz answered with a shrug:

" Looks to me like you might follow a worse lead. She's contracted for all the hay in sight and shoved the