You see, there was several wagonloads of brick and stuff had been put in there that morning.
"I don't know," says he. "Something the old man ordered, I reckon. He's away right now. They don't always tell me about things as much as I think they might."
"I've often wondered they didn't fire you," says I.
"They can't," says he. "I told you I've got too much on 'em. They don't dast to fire me none at all. I defy 'em!" says he.
"Well, you better be a little careful," says I. "I've seen people felt that way about their boss before now, and right often they got the can. You better not get fired till you know a little bit more about roping and riding."
"Hush!" says he. "I think I heard someone over in our boathouse. Good-by! I'll come round again tomorrow morning."
He went on down the dock into their boathouse. I set down not far from the door, smoking and looking out over the lake. I heard someone in there begin to talk. It was him and Old Lady Wisner—I'd heard her before once in a while. I couldn't help hearing them if I'd wanted to, and I did want to.
"James," says she, "where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."
"Why, nowhere especial," says he carelesslike. "I was just over on the dock doing some roping stunts with Curly."
"I suppose you mean that red-headed, pigeon-toed brute that hangs around the Wrights' place," says she.