“Poor kid. She has no mother,” said the old dog, “and her aunt spoils her.”
That young one stayed at the fence crack for exactly one hour. She was determined to prove she was right. Before she went away, she called viciously, “I’ve got to beat it, Gringo, so tell your friend to take a starlight saunter to some other place in this burg. I’m goin’ to make this place too hot to hold him to-morrow.”
He said nothing, and I observed irritably, “Usually girls like dogs.”
“She’s wild for them,” observed Gringo. “Don’t you catch on? She’s mad because she didn’t get her own way, and because I went back on her.”
“But why did she report me, in the first place?” I asked.
“Because she was hanging round here, hoping to get a glimpse of you. I gave her a black look when she came too near, and it crossed her temper. She was bound to get even with me. I should have let her see you. Then she’d have helped you. She treats dogs like Christians.”
“Pagans for me then,” I said. “I think I’ll be going.”
“[You must have a drink first,” said Gringo hospitably]. “Follow me.”
He led the way to the saloon—to the tub where they washed the glasses. The water was rather fiery, but I didn’t care, for I was exceedingly thirsty. He invited me to stay till later, but I said, “No.” I wanted to get away, while there were still plenty of people in the streets.