"I'm sorry for Mrs. Gerard."
Slater emitted a sound like the moist exhalation of a porpoise as it rises to the surface.
"What do you mean by that snort?" asked Murray.
"It's funny how much some people are like animals. Now the ostrich thinks that when his head is hid his whole running-gear is out of sight. Gordon's an ostrich. As for you—you remind me of a mud turtle. A turtle don't show nothing but his head, and when it's necessary he can yank that under cover. Gordon don't seem to realize that he sticks up above the underbrush—either that or else he don't care who sees him. He and that woman—"
"Never mind her," exclaimed O'Neil, quickly. "I'm sure you're mistaken."
Mr. Slater grunted once more, then chewed his gum silently, staring mournfully into the twilight. After a moment he inquired:
"Why don't you show these people how to build a railroad, Murray?"
"No, thank you! I know the country back of here. It's not feasible."
"The Copper Trust is doing it."
"All the more reason why I shouldn't. There are five projects under way now, and there won't be more than enough traffic for one."