Gene stared at his parent in ingenuous, concerned amaze.
“Not a thought to Rose?” he repeated, in a high, surprised key. “Oh, yes I have—lots of thoughts. I was just telling you now about how she braced me up.”
“Braced you up! Of course she braced you up. Hasn’t she been doing it all her life? But you can’t think of anything but yourself. Don’t you ever look at your sister and think about her and how she feels?”
“Yes,” said Gene, giving his head a confirmatory wag, “I do, I do whenever I’m in town. You see, being away on the ranch so much——”
The old man leaned back in his chair, emitting a loud, interrupting groan. Gene stared at him with a dawning uneasiness. He had begun to grasp the fact that his father was in a state of mind which had complications that included more than the old familiar contemptuousness of his every-day mood. He decided to advance more gingerly, for even Gene’s imperviousness to snubs did not make him proof against the Bonanza King’s roused displeasure.
“I’m sure,” he said mildly, “no man ever had a more unselfish sister than I have, or was more devoted to her than I am.”
“Then, why the hell,” said the old man, “do you go on talking about yourself and your damned concerns, bothering the life out of her when she’s got troubles of her own?”
The look of foolish amaze on Gene’s face deepened into one of genuine concern.
“Troubles of her own? What troubles has she got?”
One of the most aggravating features of the situation was that Gene could not be told why Rose was troubled and his father was cross. While they were bent under unaccustomed cares, he went happy and free, with nothing to think of except the ranch he had stolen. If he had been any other kind of person, he could have been taken into the secret and might have helped them out. The Bonanza King had thought of ways in which a young and intelligent man could have been of assistance in inducing Mrs. Dominick Ryan to listen to reason. Gene, if he’d had any ability, if he’d had the brains of a mouse, could have made love to her, induced her to run away with him, and then they could have given her the money and got rid of her without any more fuss. He could have been of incalculable value and here he was, perfectly useless, too much of a fool even to be told the position, moved by the mere gross weight of his stupidity into an outside place of tranquil ignorance. That his father could not force him to be a sharer in the family troubles made the old man still more angry, and it was a poignant pain to him that the only way he could show his rage was by roaring wrathfully.