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But by the great horned toad, I ain't a-goin' to let no lousy, empty headed, stinkin', sheepherdin' Swede wipe his feet on me. No, siree, not by no means!" Wade made no reply to this, and with a further admonitory shake of his grizzled head, the old man resumed his cooking. "You're sure that Chink'll be over in the mornin'?" he asked anxiously, after a little; and Wade nodded abstractedly.
A polite smile touched the stranger's lips as his eyes met Grayson's, and then wandered past him to the imposing figure of the Easterner. "Good evening, gentlemen," said Bridge. "Evenin'," snapped Grayson. "Go over to the cookhouse and the Chink'll give you something to eat. Turn your pony in the lower pasture.
"We'll send the Chink back," said Scott, persuasively, "and we'll stay all night with Herrick. We'll make him play for you," he added, as Polly smiled in spite of herself. "Will you go?" "She must," said Hard. "It's her last chance to see the country." And so the matter was settled. "That Chink'll ride the whole twenty miles on a dead run he'll be here to dinner," said Matt.
"Fishing-junks," ejaculated the mate, " pretty far out, too, but a Chink'll risk his life for a few bleedin' cash ... and yet he won't fight at all ... an' if you do him an injury he's like as not likely to up an' commit suicide at your door, to get even!" "That's a bally orful way to get even with a henemy!" exclaimed a stoker, who sat on the edge of the forward hatch. "I should say so, too!"
"The goat ain't done nothin'," sez he, "but he'll scare the Chink to death, an' when he comes out we can shoot him in the leg or something." "No," sez I, "it won't work. The Chink knows the goat better'n we do; an' it'll be the goat that'll come out an' get shot in the leg, while the Chink'll get away." "Oh, rats!" sez Ches. "He won't even know it's a goat. Can't you see that?"
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