"Of course;so it oughter be,"returned Mulrady,shortly."Why,it's only their one day out of 364;and I can have 363days off,as I am their boss.I don't mind a man's being independent,"he continued,taking off his coat and beginning to unpack his sack--a common "gunny bag"--used for potatoes."We're independent ourselves,ain't we,Slinn?"His good spirits,which had been at first labored and affected,had become natural.Slinn,looking at his brightened eye and fresher color,could not help thinking he was more like his own real self at this moment than in his counting-house and offices--with all his simplicity as a capitalist.A less abstracted and more observant critic than Slinn would have seen in this patient aptitude for real work,and the recognition of the force of petty detail,the dominance of the old market-gardener in his former humble,as well as his later more ambitious,successes.
"Heaven keep us from being dependent upon our children!"said Slinn,darkly.
"Let the young ones alone to-night;we can get along without them,as they can without us,"said Mulrady,with a slight twinge as he thought of his reflections on the hillside."But look here,there's some champagne and them sweet cordials that women like;there's jellies and such like stuff,about as good as they make 'em,I reckon;and preserves,and tongues,and spiced beef--take your pick!Stop,let's spread them out."He dragged the table to the middle of the floor,and piled the provisions upon it.They certainly were not deficient in quality or quantity."Now,Slinn,wade in.""I don't feel hungry,"said the invalid,who had lapsed again into a chair before the fire.
"No more do I,"said Mulrady;"but I reckon it's the right thing to do about this time.Some folks think they can't be happy without they're getting outside o'suthin',and my directors down at 'Frisco can't do any business without a dinner.Take some champagne,to begin with."He opened a bottle,and filled two tumblers."It's past twelve o'clock,old man,so here's a merry Christmas to you,and both of us ez is here.And here's another to our families--ez isn't."They both drank their wine stolidly.The rain beat against the windows sharply,but without the hollow echoes of the house on the hill."I must write to the old woman and Mamie,and say that you and me had a high old time on Christmas Eve.""By ourselves,"added the invalid.
Mr.Mulrady coughed."Nat'rally--by ourselves.And her provisions,"he added,with a laugh."We're really beholden to HERfor 'em.If she hadn't thought of having them--""For somebody else,you wouldn't have had them--would you?"said Slinn,slowly,gazing at the fire.
"No,"said Mulrady,dubiously.After a pause he began more vivaciously,and as if to shake off some disagreeable thought that was impressing him,"But I mustn't forget to give you YOURChristmas,old man,and I've got it right here with me."He took the folded envelope from his pocket,and,holding it in his hand with his elbow on the table,continued,"I don't mind telling you what idea I had in giving you what I'm goin'to give you now.I've been thinking about it for a day or two.A man like you don't want money--you wouldn't spend it.A man like you don't want stocks or fancy investments,for you couldn't look after them.A man like you don't want diamonds and jewellery,nor a gold-headed cane,when it's got to be used as a crutch.No,sir.What you want is suthin'that won't run away from you;that is always there before you and won't wear out,and will last after you're gone.That's land!And if it wasn't that I have sworn never to sell or give away this house and that garden,if it wasn't that I've held out agin the old woman and Mamie on that point,you should have THIShouse and THAT garden.But,mebbee,for the same reason that I've told you,I want that land to keep for myself.But I've selected four acres of the hill this side of my shaft,and here's the deed of it.As soon as you're ready,I'll put you up a house as big as this--that shall be yours,with the land,as long as you live,old man;and after that your children's.""No;not theirs!"broke in the old man,passionately."Never!"Mulrady recoiled for an instant in alarm at the sudden and unexpected vehemence of his manner,"Go slow,old man;go slow,"he said,soothingly."Of course,you'll do with your own as you like."Then,as if changing the subject,he went on cheerfully:
"Perhaps you'll wonder why I picked out that spot on the hillside.
Well,first,because I reserved it after my strike in case the lead should run that way,but it didn't.Next,because when you first came here you seemed to like the prospect.You used to sit there looking at it,as if it reminded you of something.You never said it did.They say you was sitting on that boulder there when you had that last attack,you know;but,"he added,gently,"you've forgotten all about it.""I have forgotten nothing,"said Slinn,rising,with a choking voice."I wish to God I had;I wish to God I could!"He was on his feet now,supporting himself by the table.The subtle generous liquor he had drunk had evidently shaken his self-control,and burst those voluntary bonds he had put upon himself for the last six months;the insidious stimulant had also put a strange vigor into his blood and nerves.His face was flushed,but not distorted;his eyes were brilliant,but not fixed;he looked as he might have looked to Masters in his strength three years before on that very hillside.
