He was heavy and thick-set, with huge shoulders, big hands, and beady
eyes that looked out of a stolid face where long hours, greed and vices
other than drink had left their mark. He never drank spirits, and was
therefore ready to take advantage of those who did drink. More than one
horse and canoe and cow and ox, and acre of land, in the days when land
was cheap, had come to him across the bar-counter. He could be bought,
could Barbazon, and he sold more than wine and spirits. He had a wife
who had left him twice because of his misdemeanours, but had returned and
straightened out his house and affairs once again; and even when she went
off with Lick Baldwin, a cattle-dealer, she was welcomed back without
reproaches by Barbazon, chiefly because he had no morals, and her
abilities were of more value to him than her virtue. On the whole, Gros
Barbazon was a bad lot.
At Marchand's words Barbazon shrugged his shoulders. "The more spent
to-night, the less to spend to-morrow," he growled.
"But there's going to be spending for a long time," Marchand answered.
"There's going to be a riot to-morrow, and there's going to be a strike
the next day, and after that there's going to be something else.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87