Page:The man on horseback (IA manonhorseback00abdurich).pdf/27

Rh from the range, in blue jeans tucked into high-heeled boots, a gray flannel shirt, and sombrero, but all neat and clean, even slightly dandyish in the careful knotting of the blue cotton necktie, the rakish angle of his hat, and the elaborate pattern stitched on his boot legs, Newson Garrett smiled. He smiled all over his large, puttyish, hairless face, and held out a flabby hand.

"Mr. Graves," he said in his exact, well-modulated diction that still smacked of Harvard after a lifetime in the Northwest, "permit me to shake you by the hand."

"Sure, I'll permit it if you ask like a nice little girl. But, what's the festive occasion? Why this exuberance of comehitherness, Garrett?"

"Your mine!" replied the other. "Your Yankee Doodle Glory! The jest of the decade has turned into the marvel, the envy of the decade, my dear sir. It is wonderful. I might say extraordinary. It will make history in the mining annals of the Inland Empire. See for yourself," handing Tom the typewritten assay report of the quartz samples which Truex had given him.

Tom read:

Tom looked up with a laugh.

"Say, put it in plain American. All this is Siwash tome. What docs it mean?"