Conniston
leaned back with a sigh.
"Roger," he said, at last, "I've got a proposition to make."
"Well?"
"Let's drop off at one of these dinky towns and see what it's like.
I've a notion we might find something new."
"That's a real joke, I suppose?"
"Not at all," maintained Conniston. "I'm going to do it. Are you with
me?"
Hapgood sat bolt upright.
"Are you crazy, man!" he cried, sharply.
Conniston shrugged. "Why not? You've never seen anything but city life
and the summer-resort sort of thing any more than I have. It would be
a lark."
"Excuse me! I guess I'm something of a fool for having chased clean
across the continent, but I'm not the kind of fool that's going to
pick a place like this sand-pile to drop off in!"
"All right, old man. Nobody's asking you to if you feel that way."
Hapgood waited as long as he could for Conniston to go on, and when
there came no further information he asked, incredulously:
"You don't mean that, do you, Greek? You don't intend to stop off all
alone out here in this rotten wilderness?"
"Yes, I do. If you won't stop with me."
"But how about me? What am I to do? Here I am--busted! What do you
think I'm going to do?"
"You can go on to San Francisco if you like. You can have half of what
I've got left--or you can drop off with me."
Hapgood argued and exploded and sulked by turns.
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