The Greatest Works of Earl Derr Biggers (Illustrated Edition). Earl Derr Biggers

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Chapter VII. The Postman Sets Out

       Table of Contents

      The three men and the girl returned to the living-room, but Madden's flow of small talk was stilled, and the sparkle was gone from his luncheon party.

      "Poor Tony," the millionaire said when they had sat down. "It's like the passing of an old friend. Five years ago he came to me." He was silent for a long time, staring into space.

      Presently the girl rose. "I really must be getting back to town," she announced. "It was thoughtful of you to invite me to lunch, Mr. Madden, and I appreciate it. I can count on Thursday, then?"

      "Yes—if nothing new comes up. In that case, where could I reach you?"

      "I'll be at the Desert Edge—but nothing must come up. I'm relying on the word of P.J. Madden."

      "Nothing will, I'm sure. Sorry you have to go."

      Bob Eden came forward. "I think I'll take a little fling at city life myself," he said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ride into Eldorado with you."

      "Delighted," she smiled. "But I'm not sure I can bring you back."

      "Oh no—I don't want you to. I'll walk back."

      "You needn't do that," said Madden. "It seems that Ah Kim can drive a flivver—a rather remarkable boy, Ah Kim." He was thoughtfully silent for a moment. "I'm sending him to town later in the afternoon for supplies. Our larder's rather low. He'll pick you up." The Chinese entered to clear away. "Ah Kim, you're to bring Mr. Eden back with you this evening."

      "Allight. I bring bling 'um," said Ah Kim, without interest.

      "I'll meet you in front of the hotel any time you say," suggested Eden.

      Ah Kim regarded him sourly. "Maybe flive 'clock," he said.

      "Fine. At five then."

      "You late, you no catch 'um lide," warned the Chinese.

      "I'll be there," the boy promised. He went to his room and got a cap. When he returned, Madden was waiting.

      "In case your father calls this afternoon, I'll tell him you want that matter rushed through," he said.

      Eden's heart sank. He hadn't thought of that. Suppose his father returned to the office unexpectedly—but no, that was unlikely. And it wouldn't do to show alarm and change his plans now.

      "Surely," he remarked carelessly. "If he isn't satisfied without a word from me, tell him to call again about six."

      When he stepped into the yard, the girl was skillfully turning her car about. He officiated at the gate, and joined her in the sandy road.

      The car moved off and Eden got his first unimpeded look at this queer world Holley had called the devil's garden. "Plenty acres of unlimitable sand," Chan had said, and that about summed it up. Far in the distance was a touch of beauty—a cobalt sky above snow-capped mountains. But elsewhere he saw only desert, a great gray interminable blanket spattered with creosote brush. All the trees, all the bushes, were barbed and cruel and menacing—a biznaga, pointing like a finger of scorn toward the sky, an unkempt palo verde, the eternal Joshua trees, like charred stumps that had stood in the path of a fire. Over this vast waste played odd tricks of light and shade, and up above hung the sun, a living flame, merciless, ineffably pure, and somehow terrible.

      "Well, what do you think of it?" asked the girl.

      Eden shrugged. "Hell's burnt out and left the embers," he remarked.

      She smiled. "The desert is an acquired taste," she explained. "No one likes it at first. I remember the night, long ago, when I got off the train at Eldorado with poor dad. A little girl from a Philadelphia suburb—a place that was old and settled and civilized. And there I stood in the midst of this savage-looking world. My heart broke."

      "Poor kid," said Eden. "But you like it now?"

      "Yes—after a while—well, there's a sort of weird beauty in this sun-drenched country. You waken to it in the course of time. And in the spring, after the rains—I'd like to take you over round Palm Springs then. The verbena is like a carpet of old rose, and the ugliest trees put forth the most delicate and lovely blossoms. And at any time of the year there's always the desert nights, with the pale stars overhead, and the air full of peace and calm and rest."

      "Oh, no doubt it's a great place to rest," Eden agreed. "But as it happens, I wasn't very tired."

      "Who knows?" she said. "Perhaps before we say goodbye I can initiate you into the Very Ancient Order of Lovers of the Desert. The requirements for membership are very strict. A sensitive soul, a quick eye for beauty—oh, a very select group, you may be sure. No riff-raff on our rolls."

      A blatant sign hung before them. "Stop! Have you bought your lot in Date City?" From the steps of a tiny real estate office a rather shabby young man leaped to life. He came into the road and held up his hand. Obligingly the girl stopped her car.

      "Howdy, folks," said the young man. "Here's the big opportunity of your life—don't pass it by. Let me show you a lot in Date City, the future metropolis of the desert."

      Bob Eden stared at the dreary landscape. "Not interested," he said.

      "Yeah. Think of the poor devils who once said that about the corner of Spring and Sixth, Los Angeles. Not interested—and they could have bought it for a song. Look ahead. Can you picture this street ten years hence?"

      "I think I can," Eden replied. "It looks just the way it does today."

      "Blind!" rebuked the young man. "Blind! This won't be the desert forever. Look!" He pointed to a small lead pipe surrounded by a circle of rocks and trying to act like a fountain. From its top gurgled an anemic stream. "What's that! Water, my boy, water, the pure, life-giving elixir, gushing madly from the sandy soil. What does that mean? I see a great city rising on this spot, skyscrapers and movie palaces, land five thousand a front foot—land you can buy СКАЧАТЬ