Earl Derr Biggers

“ I want to say: 'There's a little woman back in Indiana 'd like mighty well to see you, Henry Stubbs. There's a little woman who's been waitin'—waitin' all these long years, with never a word to cheer her, or a dollar to lighten the burden of running that scrawly, played-out farm.'”
He stood up. ”

“ It's the excitement I'm after. Always start something. Always have something doing. That's my motto.”
He spun the wheel invitingly.
In his search for Henry Stubbs in strange pastures the boy had gained some knowledge of those who browsed therein. He felt, now, that Benny Sharp spoke the truth—that, obviously, a man whose resort was at regular intervals the scene of wholesale gambling could have no mercenary motive in drawing into a game a boy whose fortune consisted of eleven lone and precious dollars. It was the thrill of the game Sharp craved, the boy decided. ”

“ There's one other man besides Henry Stubbs might want to give you money. How about Harding? How about Harding—the dog who stole from your dad the money he'd sweat blood for—who stopped him from keeping his honest promise to go back to the woman he loved—who started him on the road to-to his death? Don't stare at me like that. You got a train to catch, boy. Go back to her. Stubbs is dead—he died in the Yukon. Hurry. Go back——”
THE train was whistling over the desert, and the agent had started up the track with his flag as Sharp pushed the bewildered boy down the steps. ”

“ Used to sweep down on the kids playin' under the street lamps, and scatter them with his bum spear. That's the kind of a fool Henry Stubbs was—an Indiana Quixote, some called him.”
Mr. Sharp's mottled face contorted into a smile.
“A funny kid, sort of,” he commented.
“A fool,” sneered the boy. “Followed his silly notions out here. Wife, children, home–they didn't count with him. Said he was comin' out here to make a fortune. Him—make a fortune! Said he'd come back with a thousand dollars—that's a fortune in Greensburg–or he wouldn't come at all.” ”

“ Sharp.
“It's not your money she wants!” he cried. “It's not your money she watches for each night on that train from the West. It's you!”
Mr. Sharp turned a startled gaze on the boy.
“What d'ye mean?” he asked roughly.
“I'm no fool,” the boy answered. “I "know well enough no man walks away from here with twenty-two hundred of your money unless you want him to have it. I'm no fool—I can see all this pretty plain. You gave me this money—gave it to me! Yes; it's a little gift from Henry Stubbs—a little gift from father!”
“What are you talking about?” whined Benny Sharp. “The wheel's straight. ”

“ Sole testimony of his ancient state, his hands remained thin and girlish, with long, slender fingers, at the sudden sight of which men about to play the faro lay-out in the corner had been known to restore their money to their pockets and turn away. ”

“ Haywood, having quickly digested this invitation, stood instantly at attention before the bar. Mr. Sharp hastened behind it, and then stood for a moment, facing the three bottles with an unusually serious face.
“Brandy, rum, or gin?” He turned to Haywood. “Which windmill shall we tackle, Sancho? They always put us down and out. They always throw us. And we always come back for another scrap. ”

“ Sharp.
“Dreamer,” repeated the boy bitterly. “That's what Henry Stubbs was. That was what sent him driftin clear out here, away from a woman a million times too good for him. Read books, he did. His hands was too white for a farm—his soul was too high-toned.” ”

“ I think you're Henry Stubbs, and I'm not leaving Kiowa Junction till I get the truth.”
“You're a young fool,” Sharp expostulated. “I ain't your dad. All this is a joke, if we just had time to laugh. But we ain't—you got a train to catch. I ain't your father. Do I look like a dreamy-eyed wanderer from Indiana to you?”
“I should say not!” answered the boy. “No, I don't see it myself. But tell me one thing: who else besides Henry Stubbs would want to make me a present of twenty-two hundred dollars? Tell me that, if you can.”
MR. SHARP stood for a moment ”