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Dirk, because his conscience was not quite clear, slept in the stable that night and told his boss a lie next morning. The riders of the Muleshoe outfit were eating breakfast when Bud rode past the long, low-roofed log cabin to the corral which stood nearest the clutter of stables and sheds.
"I can work with most anybody, but I never could work with the likes of him. The boys are all right. He wouldn't have had any trouble with them if he'd used them like human beings. They both put up with more than I would have stood. But I tell you, that boy, Teddy Spotted Horse, the boys call him did hand it out to the Boss.
Come right along, boss." He rose heavily to his feet, crossed the room, and threw open the door of what was little more than a cupboard at the further end. The place was in darkness, but a human form sprang suddenly upright. His white face and glaring eyes were the only visible objects in a shroud of darkness. "That's all right, kid," the Irishman said soothingly. "No cops yet.
"The Lucky Chance!" exclaimed Pete, "then there's some diviltry a goin' sure, for the old man, he don't let nobody into that mine 'thout he's along; and if that Van-what's-his-name ain't down there he's right here, that's all, and here I stays." "And me and Bud, we're to watch out for the boss?" "Yes, lay for 'im and overhaul 'im, and find out what the divil is goin' on."
Them bolts I drew on the trestle pretty near gave me a headache not to say as near as you came to it when the boss got swinging," he added with a leer. "Hugo Werner never was ambitious." Koppy raised himself haughtily. "I order," he rapped. "Too darn much for my skin," grumbled Werner. "It's a bad habit to get into for the other fellow."
"He says he wants to see you." "You tell Mr. Doolittle I don't want to see him!" commanded the irritated George. But Mr. Benjamin Doolittle was already seeing his candidate. As political boss of his party, he had little regard for such a formality as being announced to any person on whom he might call so he had walked through the open door. "Well, what d'you want, Doolittle?"
The writer has seen more than one judge openly striving to influence a jury to convict or to acquit a prisoner at the dictation of such a boss, who, not content to issue his commands from behind the arras, came to the courtroom and ascended the bench to see that they were obeyed.
"But if I choose to construe it that way," he persisted, "and declare the obligation null and void, how soon could you get ready to be married to the political boss of this town and one of its leading business men? Agnes," he went on, suddenly quite serious, "I can not do without you any longer. I have waited long enough. I need you and you must come to me."
But now he thought of little else, and as time went on he succeeded in twisting nearly everything the new boss had said or done to fit his theory that Bannon was jealous of him and was trying to take from him the credit which rightfully belonged to him. And Bannon had put him in charge of the night shift, so Peterson came to think, simply because he had seen that Hilda was beginning to like him.
Me an' the Chow emptied very near two buckets out of him. He's dead to the world jes' now. How do you feel, boss?" "I'll be all right in a minute," said Hugh. "What's your name?" "I'm Tommy Prince," said the stranger. "I jist kem in from my camp to-day for them onions." Hugh drew a long breath. The luck had turned at last.
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