Head erect, Tony started for the door. Kent was waiting for him. When the Basque reached the sidewalk the old man stopped him.
“What’s all this talk?” he demanded.
“I’m t’rough wit’ Johnny Dice,” the Basque said explosively. “I lose my job for heem. He say we catch man what keel those fellow at the Rock. How I catch heem, when all the time I’m tol’ to keep shut up—don’ say not’ing, don’ do not’ing. Válgame Dios! You t’ink Tony Madeiras ees dam fool?”
“You’ve acted like it,” old Kent declared. “Winter’s comin’ on; you had a good job, but you threw it up for a harum-scarum kid. Didn’t take you long to find out where you stood with him, did it? Smart Alecks don’t go far. Guess you’ll learn.”
“I learn pretty dam’ good, all right,” Tony admitted. “Now I go look for job.”
“You won’t find the lookin’ too good,” the boss of the Diamond-Bar assured him.
“Well, Tony Madeiras ees good vaquero. No man deny that. Mebbe you tak’ me on again, eh?”
Kent was no fool. He had felt this question a full half minute before it was asked. He was only too glad to get the man; but he shrewdly forced the Basque to his knees.
“Well, I don’t know,” he said. “We don’t need men till spring. If I did take you on, chances are you’d be flyin’ up and walkin’ off first time you felt like it. If a man is workin’ for me, he’s workin’ for me. I don’t have to put up with the sort of nonsense you and that slipper-tongue tried to run on me.”
“Mebbe I’m beeg fool once, but not beeg fool twice.”