"
He sat down and began to write again. But Uncle Henry had not finished--he
had just started.
"What's the _use_?" he wheezed. "There's lots of use. Here you go an'
persuade me to sell the old home and buy this rotten ranch 'way down here
in this God-forsaken country. An' just when I, like a darned old fool, take
an' do it, along comes the war an' you enlist and leave me here with
nothin' but a lot of rotten cows!"
"But I left the foreman and the cook," Gilbert reminded him.
A look of scorn came over Uncle Henry's face, "Yes, 'Red' Giddings--playin'
the harmonicky until I go almost crazy! An' a Mexican cook that can't cook
nothin' but firecrackers! An' not even them when you want 'em!" He waited
for this crowning touch to sink in. Infuriated by Gilbert's indifference,
he swung around again in his chair. "Say, ain't we _never_ goin' to have no
dinner? I'm hungry!"
"I'm sorry," was all Gilbert said.
Uncle Henry almost resorted to tears--they were in his voice, at any rate.
"First you rob me an' then you starve me!" he all but screamed. "An' the
best you got to say is you're sorry!"
Jones never looked up, as he continued to write. "I did the best I could,
Uncle.
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