He's got loads of money, John Pendleton has--from his father.
"I don't know that
he's very clever," she said one day, when I was looking at the photograph, "but I know
he's good.
He says he don't care what he does, he'll never get his, because when he dies
he's dead, an' when
he's dead he'd like to see any one put anything across on him that'd wake him up.
He's not here yet!" But at this moment the great folding-doors of the saloon were flung open, and he turned with a guilty start to receive His High Excellency.
He likes to talk to me, though
he's a highly eddicated man and I'm only an ignorant old sailor, because
he's one of the folks that's GOT to talk or they're miserable, and he finds listeners scarce around here.
I reckon
he's somebody they think they better be on the good side of, for they've tried to please him by hiring his no-account brother to help on the farm when they can't hardly afford it, and don't want him around anyhow.
Not one thoroughbred in ten makes good, unless
he's got the heart of a coward, and that's just what distinguishes them from mongrels and cross-breds.
"Trust thee for catching sight of him if
he's anywhere to be seen," said Seth, smiling.
There now's the old Mogul, soliloquized Stubb by the try-works,
he's been twigging it; and there goes Starbuck from the same, and both with faces which I should say might be somewhere within nine fathoms long.
He's right across at the Yellowstone, throwin' chests and doing the popular."
I know that
he's clever, learned, religious somewhat....
Then the hope died down as he added, shaking his head, "We've had him two weeks now, and if anything
he's wilder than ever at the present moment."