“He's got sand to burn,” remarked Red in awe. “Wonder how he got to know her?”
“Yu can gamble she did th' introducing part—he ain't got th' nerve to do it himself. He saved her life, or she thinks he did, or some romantic nonsense like that. So yu better go around an' get him away, an' keep him away, too.”
“Who, me?” Inquired Red in indignation. “Me go around an' tote him off? I ain't no wagon: yu go, or send Johnny.”
“Johnny would say something real pert an' get knocked into th' middle of next week for it. He won't do, so I reckon yu better go yoreself,” responded Buck, smiling broadly and moving off.
“Hey, yu! Wait a minute!” cried Red in consternation. Buck paused and Red groped for an excuse: “Why don't you send Billy?” He blurted in desperation.
The foreman's smile assumed alarming proportions and he slapped his thigh in joy: “Good boy!” he laughed. “Billy's th' man—good Lord, but won't he give Cupid cold feet! Rustle around an' send th' pessimistic soul to me.”
Red, grinning and happy, rapidly visited door after door, shouted, “Hey, Billy!” and proceeded to the next one. He was getting pugnacious at his lack of success when he espied Mr. Billy Williams tacking along the accidental street as if he owned it. Mr. Williams was executing fancy steps and was trying to sing many songs at once.
Red stopped and grabbed his bibulous friend as that person veered to starboard: “Yore a peach of a life-preserver, yu are!” he exclaimed.
Billy balanced himself, swayed back and forth and frowned his displeasure at this unwarranted action: “I ain't no wife-deserter!” he shouted. “Unrope me an' give me th' trail! No tenderfoot can ride me!” Then he recognized his friend and grinned joyously: “Shore I will, but only one. Jus' one more, jus' one more. Yu see, m'friend, it was all Jimmy's fault. He—”
Red secured a chancery hold and dragged his wailing and remonstrating friend to Buck, who frowned with displeasure.