“I ought to kill you,” said Jeff. “Now giggle, you idiot, and make everybody hate you!—Wait till I say Adios to my old compadre and the rest of the Escobar gente and I’ll side you to El Paso.”
“Not I. Little Johnny, he’ll make San Elizario ferry by noon and Helm’s by dark. Thought maybe so you’d be going along.”
“Why, no,” said Jeff uneasily. “I guess maybe I’ll go up to El Paso and june around a spell.”
“Oh, well—just as you say! Such bein’ the case, I’ll be jogging.”
“Better wait till after dinner—I’ll square it with Don Francisco if ... anything’s missing.”
“No—that makes too long a jaunt for this afternoon. Me for San Elizario. So long!”
But beyond the first acequia he turned and rode back.
“Funny thing, Jeff! Remember me telling you about a girl I saw on Mayhill, the day Nigger Babe throwed you off? Now, what was that girl’s name?—I’ve forgotten again. Oh, yes!—Hoffman—Miss Ellinor Hoffman. Well—she’s at Arcadia still. The mother lady was all for going back to New York—but, no, sir! Girl says she’s twenty-one, likes Arcadia, and she’s going to stay a spell. Leastwise, so I hear.”
“I will kill you!” said Jeff. “Here, wait till I saddle my nag and say good-by.”