"Yaas," he announced, "Ay ban purty gude man on a rench. Ay roon dat rench for Engus, yoost like Ay roon him for hes fader."
"Ye run th' ranch f'r th' ould man, did ye?" Mrs. Foley commented.
"Sure," Gus affirmed. "Me and him we roon him. Engus, he don't know much about a rench. If it ent for me, Ay tank he mek dam' fule out of the whole t'ing."
"Gawd, but ye hate yerself!" said his auditor. "If ye know so much, why ain't ye got a half section or bether of yer own, instid of dhrillin' along a hired man?"
"Vell, Ay don't see yoost vat Ay like," Gus explained. "Ay mek gude money."
"Who gets it?" asked Mrs. Foley. "Th' barkeep?"
Big Gus grinned. "Mebbe he gat some. But Ay got a stake saved up. Ven Ay see a gude rench mebbe Ay buy him. But a faller alone on a rench haf purty hard time. He needs a woman to cook and vash by him."
"Is that so?" snorted Mrs. Foley. "But, be me sowl, I b'lieve ye're tellin' the stark, naked trut' as ye see ut. That's all the loikes iv yez sees in a woman."
"Soome time," said Gus reflectively, "mebbe Ay gat me a voman."
"Hiven help her!" said Mrs. Foley piously. Gus surveyed her calmly.