"What's the matter, Johnson, your suspenders galdin' you this mornin'?"
The man scowled into the face of the cow-puncher who sat regarding him with an irritating grin.
"What do you want around here? If you want a job go turn your horse into the corral an' git out there an' git to work on that resevoy."
"No, Johnson, I don't want a job. I done had one experience with this outfit, an' I fired you for a boss for keeps."
"Get offen this ranch!" roared the man, shaking a fist, and advancing one threatening step, "or I'll have you throw'd off!"
Tex laughed: "I don't aim to stick around no great while. Fact is, I'm in somethin' of a hurry myself. I just stopped in to give you a chanct to do me a good turn. I happened to be down this way an': 'there's Johnson,' I says to myself, 'he's so free an' open-handed, a man's welcome to anything he's got,' so I stopped in."
The ranchman regarded him with an intent scowl: "'Sth' matter with you, you drunk?"
"Not yet. But I got a friend out here in the hills which he's lost his slippers, an' tore his pants, an' got his shirt all dirty, an' mislaid his hat; an' knowin' you'd be glad to stake him to an outfit I come over, him bein' about your size an' build."
The ranchman's face flushed with anger: "What the hell do I care about you an' your friends. Git offen this ranch, I tell you!"
"Oh, yes, an' while you're gettin' the outfit together just you slip in a cinch, an' a quart or two of hooch, case we might get snake-bit."