“What’s wrong?” Johnny asked.
“Too much,” replied Tony. “For why I come wit’ you? I don’ lak theese bus’ness, always be left behin’.”
The last hour had frayed Johnny’s nerves. The Basque’s petulance found him without the patience to accept it for what it was. “Don’t ride me, Tony,” he grumbled. “I know what I’m doin’.”
“Sí! But Madre de Dios, I be dam’ eef I do!”
“Ain’t you willin’ to follow my lead? When you stay back, it’s because it’s best you do. We ain’t on no picnic. Things may break so that you’ll go on and I’ll stay behind.”
“I guess you no stay behin’ much, Johnny.”
“Well, you threw up your job for me. We stick till this thing’s over and we’ve caught on somewhere else.”
“Those job mean not’ing. Tony Madeiras always get job.”
“Then what in hell’s on your mind?”
The Basque grinned. He was getting a little action at last. “Maybe,” he said bombastically, “Tony Madeiras mak’ good deetecteeve, too. But how I know. I don’t get no chance.”