“Now where's the list of the truck Gascoyne got?” he said. “I'll look it up.”
“Sure you feel all right?” the clerk inquired.
“Get the list,” said Keller. “Take that glass away.”
He picked up a pen, but put it down when he found his hand shook, and told the clerk to charge the goods. When the latter had gone, he sat still for some minutes and then opened a book of accounts. He had had another warning, sharper than the last, and had better put things straight while he could. With this object he worked later than usual, and when he returned to the hotel called Sadie into his private room. The girl sat down, and he studied her, leaning his elbow heavily on the table.
Sadie had a strained look and had been quiet for the last week or two except when she was angry. This indicated that her nerves were on edge, and Keller thought he knew why.
“I guess we've got to have a talk,” he said. “I've put it off, but now's the time.”
Sadie waited calmly. She had courage and knew she must be frank with her father. He did not, as a rule, say much, but he noted things and understood.
“Well,” he resumed, “I've built up a pretty good business here, but I'll have to quit and leave you some day, and reckon you won't be satisfied to stop at the hotel all your life. You're smart and a looker, and I guess you want to go out and see the world. That's all right, and you'll be able, as far as dollars count; but I can't go with you and you can't go alone.”
Sadie shivered. Keller's face was pinched, and she knew his health was not good, although she did not know how bad it really was.
“I couldn't leave you, anyway, and hope you'll be with me a long time yet.”