Some Buried Caesar

Pratt nodded sort of unconcerned, but I could see his temples were tight. "That darned bull's causing a lot of trouble." He glanced at the sister, and back at the brother again. "It's nice of you children to drop in like this. Unex- pected pleasure. I saw your father over at Crowfield today."

"Yeah. He saw you too." All at once Clyde stopped talk- ing, and began to turn, slow but sure, as if something had gripped him and was wheeling him on a pivot. He took four steps and was confronting the canvas swing, looking down straight at Lily Rowan.

"How are you?" he demanded.

"I'm fine." She held her head tilted back to see him. "Just fine. You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm great. "

"Good." Lily yawned.

That simple exchange seemed to have an effect on Jimmy Pratt, for he took on added color, though as near as I could tell his eyes were aimed at Nancy Osgood, who was passing a remark to Caroline. Caroline was insisting that they stay for a drink. Mr. Bronson, looking a little weary, as if the day at the fair had been too much for him, had sat down. Clyde abruptly turned away from the swing, crossed back over, and got onto the edge of the chair next to Pratt's.

"Look here," he said.

"Well, my boy?"

"We stopped in to see you, my sister and I."

"I think that was a good idea. Now that I've built this place here… we're neighbors again, aren't we."

Clyde frowned. He looked to me like a spoiled kid, with a mouth that didn't quite go shut, and moving as if he ex- pected things to get out of his way. He said, "Neighbors? I suppose so. Technically, anyhow. I wanted to speak to you about that bull. I know why you're doing it… I guess every- one around here does. You're doing it just to be offensive to my father – you keep out of this, Nancy, I'm handling this-"

His sister had a hand on his shoulder. "But Clyde, that's no way-"

"Let me alone." He shook her off and went after Pratt again. "You think you can get his goat by sneering at him, by butchering a bull that could top any of his in show competition. I'll hand it to you for one thing, you picked a good one. Hickory Caesar Grindon is a hard bull to put down. I say that not only on account of his record, but because I know cattle… or I used to. I wanted my father to buy Caesar – in 1931, when he was only a promising junior. And you think you're going to butcher him?"

"That's my intention. But where you got the idea that I'm doing it deliberately to offend your father – nonsense. I'm doing it as an advertisement for my business."