Black Jack, page 9 by Max Brand
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im on a trip."
"He had business to do."
His diversion had been a distinct failure, and had been turned against him. For she went on: "Which leads to what I have to say. You're going back to New York in a few days, I suppose?"
"No, my dear. I haven't been across the water for two years."
"Paris?"
"Brussels. A little less grace; a little more spirit."
"Which means money."
"A few thousand only. I'll be back by fall."
"Do you know that you'll have to mortgage your future for that money, Vance?"
He blinked at her, but maintained his smile under fire courageously.
"Come, come! Things are booming. You told me yesterday what you'd clean up on the last bunch of Herefords."
When she folded her hands, she was most dangerous, he knew. And now the bony fingers linked and she shrugged the shawl more closely around her shoulders.
"We're partners, aren't we?" smiled Vance.
"Partners, yes. You have one share and I have a thousand. But--you don't want to sell out your final claim, I suppose?"
His smile froze. "Eh?"
"If you want to get those few thousands, Vance, you have nothing to put up for them except your last shreds of property. That's why I say you'll have to mortgage your future for money from now on."
"But--how does it all come about?"
"I've warned you. I've been warning you for twenty-five years, Vance."
Once again he attempted to turn her. He always had the impression that if he became serious, deadly serious for ten consecutive minutes with his sister, he would be ruined. He kept on with his semi-jovial tone.
"There are two arts, Elizabeth. One is making money and the other is spending it. You've mastered one and I've mastered the other. Which balances things, don't you think?"
She did not melt; he waved down to the farm land.
"Watch that wave of wind, Elizabeth."
A gust struck the scattering of aspens, and turned up the silver of the dark green leaves. The breeze roll