While Merry and Clancy were laughing and pounding each other with pillows, a screech from the back yard claimed their attention. The screech was followed by a wild assortment of words in three separate and distinct voices.
“China boy fillee tub, by Klismas!”
“Py shinks, I fill dot tub myselluf, und dot’s all aboudt it.”
“Me, I fill de tub.”
Merry and Clancy stepped away from each other, listened, and then moved toward a window. A look into the back yard at once disclosed the reason why the bath water had not been provided.
The Chinaman evidently had started for the second floor of the hotel with a filled pail, but before he could get into the building he had been waylaid by Fritz Gesundheit and the Mexican, Silva. The Dutchman and the Mexican had each laid hold of the pail, and all three were glaring at each other over the top of it.
Fritz, otherwise Carrots, was out of a job now that the Ophir fellows had come in from Tinaja Wells, and the same was equally true of Silva. Carrying water for the bath had looked like easy money to the Dutchman and the Mexican, and each of them had made up his mind to kick Chinese labor off the job and monopolize the work and the honorarium. Woo Sing, however, was registering objections.
“Lettee go pail!” cried the Chinaman. “No lettee go, my bleakee head! By jim klickets, Melican sons guns no makee fool business allee same China boy!”
“Caramba!” breathed Silva darkly. “De water ees mine for carry. I make insist. Hands off de pail, muy pronto!”
“By Shiminy,” wheezed fat Fritz, “I vas gedding my mad oop like I can’t tell! I take der pail myselluf.”