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Do you know anywhere else we could go a house where there are poor people who won't be rude to me about him?" He thought for a moment. Then his face brightened. "I know the very place, ma. It's quite near. The boss boozes, but Ma's a good sort. She'll have a room, sure. It's all among the Chows, if you don't mind that." "Chows what are Chows?"
After several draughts of something that was poured out of a demijohn into a pint-pot, his tongue became loosened, and he expressed an opinion that geology was all bosh, and said if he had half his employer's money he'd be dashed if he would go rooting round in the mud like a blessed old ant-eater; he also irreverently referred to his learned boss as "Old Rocks" over there.
When the time came for the outfit to break up, with each unit taking its own cattle, the boss said to Pan, "Come ride fer me." Pan, flushed and pleased, mumbled his thanks, but he had to work for his father. Then he and the boy with him, Joe Crawley, bade their comrades good-by, especially loath to part with Old Dutch, and started home with their cows and calves.
Shay waited at the gate for Squeaks, but the Judge slipped out the back way and disappeared. It was Bud Towler who called on the Judge with a letter from Boss Shay, demanding the return of certain personal papers and authorizing said Bud to receive them. To which Judge Squeaks replied: "He better come for them himself. He knows where I live. I'll be home every night this week."
He stuck his head into the grate again, but this time without apology. "I suppose you are in trouble?" said Gilmore, and his genial mood seemed to chill suddenly. "You're right, boss, I'm in a heap of trouble!" "Well, then, clear out of here!" said Gilmore. "Hold on, boss, it ain't that kind of trouble" interposed the handy-man hastily. "What do you want?" "Advice."
It's your deal, boy!" Vaniman shuffled obediently. "And there was a run-in this morning between your boss and his brother," observed the Squire, scratching a match. "And Eli, here, called my attention to the fact that two sun dogs, strangers to him, were chasing along with the sun all the forenoon. Signs of trouble, boy sure signs!" He sorted his cards.
Gowan listened attentively, though without commenting either by look or word. When she had quite finished, he asked a single question: "Think your Daddy won't mind, Miss Chuckie?" "He will understand that we simply can't leave here until Lafe and Mr. Blake are safe up out of the cañon." "All right. You're the boss," he acquiesced. "Just write out a list of what you want.
The Boss stood beside the massive fireplace, gazing pensively up at a portrait of Washington. "Ah, good morning, governor," he called, turning slowly. "I trust I'm well within the official hours." "Quite." "Mahomet is somewhat stricken in years, and night travel impairs his digestion, but if need be, he can come to the mountain still."
Sleeny got one more glimpse of the beautiful face under the gray hat and feather, and blessed it as it vanished out of the door. As Farnham came back to the library, he stood for a moment by Sam, and examined what he had done. "That's a good job. I like your work on the green-house, too. I know good work when I see it. I worked one winter as a boss carpenter myself."
"Suma-theek and the Big Boss say for you to call in all the other Indians and come help them at the little power house. The whites are trying to lynch the hombres." The Indian peered down into her face and grunted as he recognized her. Then he suddenly stood in his stirrups and raised the fearful cry that had emptied the moving picture hall. "Ke-theek! Ke-theek! Ke-theek! To me!
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