He looked up at Norman again. "O.K., Bernie," he said. "It’s a deal."
When they came out into the fading sunlight in front of Norman's bungalow office, Nevada looked at the agent. Pierce's face was glum.
"Maybe you better come down to my office," he muttered. "We got a lot of talking to do."
"It can keep till tomorrow," Nevada said. "I got company from the East waitin’ for me at home."
"You just bit off a big nut," the agent said. They started toward their cars.
"I reckon it's about time," Nevada said confidently. "The only way to make real money is to gamble big money."
"You can also lose big that way," Pierce said dourly.
Nevada paused beside his white Stutz Bearcat. He put his hand affectionately on the door, much in the same manner he did with his horses.
"We won't lose."
The agent squinted at him.
"I hope you know what you're doing.
I just don't like it when Norman comes in so fast and promises us all the profits.
There's a monkey somewhere."
Nevada smiled. "The trouble with you, Dan, is you're an agent. All agents are suspicious.
Bernie came in because he had to. He didn't want to take any chances on losin' me." He opened the door and got into the car. "I’ll be down at your office at ten tomorrow morning."
"O.K.," the agent said. He started toward his own car, then stopped and came back. "This talking-picture business bothers me.
A couple of other companies have announced they're going to make talkies."
"Let 'em," Nevada said. "It's their headache." He turned the key, pressed the starter and the big motor sprang into life with a roar. "It's a novelty," he shouted to the agent over the noise. "By the time our picture comes out people will have forgotten all about talkies."
The telephone on the small table near the bed rang softly.
Rina walked over and picked it up.
It was one of those new French telephones, the first she'd seen since she'd returned from Europe.
The now familiar insignia was in the center of the dial, where the number usually was printed.
"Hello." Nevada's familiar voice was in her ear. "Howdy, friend.
You all settled in?"
"Nevada!" she exclaimed.
"You got other friends?" She laughed.
"I'm unpacked," she said.
"And amazed."
"At what?"
"Everything. This place. It's fabulous. I never saw anything like it."
His voice was a quiet whisper in her ear. "It's not very much.
Paltry little spread, but I call it home."
"Oh, Nevada," she laughed, "I still can't believe it.
Why did you ever build such a fantastic house?
It's not like you at all."
"It's part of the act, Rina," he said. "Like the big white hat, the fancy shirts and the colored boots.
You're not really a star unless you have the trappings."
"With N Bar S on everything?" she asked.
"With N Bar S on everything," he repeated.
"But don't let it throw you. There are crazier things in Hollywood."
"I've got so much to tell you," she said.
"What time will you be home?"
"Home?" He laughed. "I am home. I’m down in the bar, waiting for you."
"I’ll be down in a minute," she said, then hesitated.
"But, Nevada, how will I find the bar?
This place is so immense."
"We got Indian guides just for occasions like this," he said.
"I’ll send one up after you."
She put down the telephone and went over to the mirror.
By the time she had finished applying lipstick to her mouth, there was a soft knock at the door.