"Or when they're afraid to," agreed the underforeman.
The hint of authority beyond his superiors nettled them both.
"I don't know what hold you have over that damned crew," Torrance stormed, "but if you'd make them watch the horses you'd be earning your money better than running up here."
"That damned crew steal no horses," Koppy objected with dignity. "I hold my men—yes," he went on proudly. "You pay me for that. I make them obey boss. Ignace Koppowski make them—"
"Yes, yes," Conrad broke in testily. "We know your full name. Drop the heroics."
"No heroics to think of young missus." Koppy turned to Tressa, forced to be an uncomfortable witness of one of the frequent quarrels that never reached an issue. "If she say no danger, Ignace Koppowski satisfied." He bent his big frame with surprising grace.
Tressa smiled on the Pole from the upper step. She never could understand why her father and lover hated the fellow so. "Thank you, Koppy. Not a bit of danger—as it happened. It was good of you to be concerned."
The Pole repeated the obeisance. Conrad caught his eye as he lifted his head.
"And now," he ordered shortly, "you've learned all you're likely to.
Get out."
A flash of anger came and went in the underforeman's face. He straightened, looking Conrad in the eye.