Mrs. Harkutt audibly murmured “Poor dear Dan'l,” and stood, as it were, sympathetically by, ready to commiserate the pains and anxieties of wealth as she had those of poverty. Clementina alone remained silent, clear-eyed, and unchanged.
“And to think it all came through THEM!” continued Phemie. “I always had an idea that Mr. Grant was smart, dad. And it was real kind of him to tell you.”
“I reckon father could have found it out without them. I don't know why we should be beholden to them particularly. I hope he isn't expected to let them think that he is bound to consider them our intimate friends just because they happened to drop in here at a time when his plans have succeeded.”
The voice was Clementina's, unexpected but quiet, unemotional and convincing. “It seemed,” as Mrs. Harkutt afterwards said, “as if the child had already touched that hundred thousand.” Phemie reddened with a sense of convicted youthful extravagance.
“You needn't fear for me,” said Harkutt, responding to Clementina's voice as if it were an echo of his own, and instinctively recognizing an unexpected ally. “I've got my own ideas of this thing, and what's to come of it. I've got my own ideas of openin' up that property and showin' its resources. I'm goin' to run it my own way. I'm goin' to have a town along the embarcadero that'll lay over any town in Contra Costa. I'm goin' to have the court-house and county seat there, and a couple of hotels as good as any in the Bay. I'm goin' to build that wagon road through here that those lazy louts slipped up on, and carry it clear over to Five Mile Corner, and open up the whole Tasajara Plain!”
They had never seen him look so strong, so resolute, so intelligent and handsome. A dimly prophetic vision of him in a black broadcloth suit and gold watch-chain addressing a vague multitude, as she remembered to have seen the Hon. Stanley Riggs of Alasco at the “Great Barbecue,” rose before Phemie's blue enraptured eyes. With the exception of Mrs. Harkutt,—equal to any possibilities on the part of her husband,—they had honestly never expected it of him. They were pleased with their father's attitude in prosperity, and felt that perhaps he was not unworthy of being proud of them hereafter.
“But we're goin' to leave Sidon,” said Phemie, “ain't we, paw?”
“As soon as I can run up a new house at the embarcadero,” said Harkutt peevishly, “and that's got to be done mighty quick if I want to make a show to the company and be in possession.”
“And that's easier for you to do, dear, now that 'Lige's disappeared,” said Mrs. Harkutt consolingly.
“What do ye mean by that? What the devil are ye talkin' about?” demanded Harkutt suddenly with unexpected exasperation.