"Grandmother died before I was born. After her death, and while Father was setting up business over here, the Craigs moved in with Grandaddy. They were young people, brother and sister, Joe and Myrah, and they have been there ever since. Now just who the Craigs are I do not know. There is an old rumor among the cow hands that Grandaddy was paying off some sort of an old romantic debt when he took them in. It must have been a far-flung romance, for the Craigs reputedly came from up in the Wind River district.
"At any rate there they are. Myrah is a good housekeeper and has been a good caretaker of an aged man. Joe was never a cow man. He has a crippled hand. In his young days he roamed the country as a hunter and trapper. He cuts the wood, builds the fires, and runs the errands; just a lackey boy, and is still just that.
"When Father came to Omaha this last time, Grandaddy came over here occasionally. He would bring the keyster and pay the bills. Finally, as Father's stay was prolonged, I persuaded Grandfather to headquarter over here. I fixed up the front room for his convenience. He seems contented with the fireplace and Morris chair. I could have gotten along all right but the matter of finances bothered me. With the banks closed, we have little money available. Even if we had a considerable sum, I wouldn't know where to keep it. A cupboard or desk seemed an insecure place and my financial experience has been limited to a little money purse with small change and probably only one bill. Just now, Grandfather's keyster is the Rock of Gibraltar, the financial prop that is sustaining the whole structure. But what about this prop? How strong is it? Will it outlast the depression? I don't know. I doubt if Father would know, if he were here. He and Grandaddy might exchange quips or gibes over the matter of sales or production but they didn't broadcast as to funds on hand.
"Truly, I don't care to know how much money is in Grandaddy's keyster, that's his affair. But it's irksome and tragic not to know one's limitations. Tomorrow the whole structure may crumble and fall, for lack of another dollar.
"My relations with Grandaddy are peculiar. He was sorely disappointed that I wasn't a boy. He tolerates me and that's about all. To him, women are a liability, not an asset. He regards them as a necessary evil. If anything important is to be done, it must be done by a man. If he is irritated by some woman's accomplishments he growls out: 'Men fought for and won the territory and women followed in to take possession.' And for this reason it was an easy matter to induce him to come over here with his keyster and take charge. He just couldn't conceive that a girl could manage a business.
"But notwithstanding his disappointments and my timidity, we've gotten along very well. When I go away to school he always slips me a bill or two for spending money. I could feel that he resented my buying a car, yet he pays for my gasoline without complaint. His bias, prejudice, and vindictiveness doesn't apply to the members of his immediate family, but it does apply intensely and vigorously to others. It's this peculiarity that might wreck the works at this critical time.
"It's a family tradition that Grandaddy never went in debt for anything. If he hadn't the cash to pay, he didn't buy. But just now, they are closing out the Bar-O ranch lands, cattle, chattels, and it's ill repute. If Grandaddy knew of this sale, he would spend every dime in that keyster of his, and go in debt as far as he could, in order to own this thing that has been a life's obsession. And if he were to spend this money, be it much or little, this B-line would be bankrupt. I have tried to keep the news of this sale away from Grandaddy just to avoid this catastrophe. If it comes, I am helpless."
During this recital, Adine was seated facing Davy on the footstool. There were lines in her face that Davy had never seen, a near quaver in her voice that he had never heard. The Sir Galahad of the Sawdust Ring had surely found a maiden in dire distress. He wriggled on his seat, mustering comforting words.
"Well, I don't want to offend by poo-pooing your troubles," said Davy as consolingly as he could. "Sickness is always bad, but everything is being done that's possible; your grandfather's acts couldn't work much harm. You don't owe anything to anybody; your needs are few; your expenses are at a minimum. There will be a moratorium on taxes and your few employees would readily accept a note in lieu of cash, and friends like Mrs. Gillis would gladly come to the rescue if quick funds are needed. Frankly, you are a long way from Trouble River and you should not worry about crossing it until you reach the brink.
"And that's that," said the little man, brushing his hands as if the matter were fully settled. "Now tell me about this Bar-O thing. Is this the same affair that Mister Potter spoke of? What's the grazing master got to do, in folding up a ranch? Why would your grandfather get all het up if he heard about it? Where is this Bar-O property? Maybe in this tragic drama, there is a comedy part that I could play."