She upheaved the heavy flour-sack to the same secure shelf with the
upraised palms of an Egyptian caryatid. Suddenly she interrupted
Hemmingway's perfunctory talk with a hearty laugh. He started, looked
up from his seat on the platform, and saw that she was standing over him
and regarding him with a kind of mischievous pity.
"Look here," she said, "I reckon that'll do! You kin pull up short! I
kin see what's the matter with you; you're jest plumb tired, tuckered
out, and want to turn in! So jest you sit that quiet until I get supper
ready and never mind me." In vain Hemmingway protested, with a rising
color. The girl only shook her head. "Don't tell me! You ain't keering
to talk, and you're only playin' Sacramento statistics on me," she
retorted, with unfeigned cheerfulness. "Anyhow, here's the wimmen
comin', and supper is ready."
There was a sound of weary, resigned ejaculations and pantings, and
three gaunt women in lustreless alpaca gowns appeared before the cabin.
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