His paunch became distended,
and his hands trembled in the morning. Being a man of strong appetites,
and having a determination to avoid women, he almost constantly overdrank
and overate, and in the leisure hours that came to him he hurried eagerly
from place to place, avoiding thought, avoiding sane quiet talk, avoiding
himself.
All of his companions did not suffer equally. Webster seemed made for the
life, thriving and expanding under it, putting his winnings steadily
aside, going on Sunday to a suburban church, avoiding the publicity
connecting his name with race horses and big sporting events that Crofts
sought and to which Sam submitted. One day Sam and Crofts caught him in an
effort to sell them out to a group of New York bankers in a mining deal
and turned the trick on him instead, whereupon he went off to New York to
become a respectable big business man and the friend of senators and
philanthropists.
Crofts was a man with chronic domestic troubles, one of those men who
begin each day by cursing their wives before their associates and yet
continue living with them year after year. There was a kind of rough
squareness in the man, and after the completion of a successful deal he
would be as happy as a boy, pounding men on the back, shaking with
laughter, throwing money about, making crude jokes.
Pages:
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350