The girl shrugged her shoulders. "Funny people! Not a thought of quarrelling in their heads! Signing their names to the same paper."
She collected the writing materials and carried them back to the commissioner's room, at the end of the long pillared verandah. The two lads were left alone together.
CHAPTER XII.
The csikós quietly emptied his last bottle of beer. The cowboy poured out the rest of his red wine into the glass.
They clinked glasses.
"Your health!" It was drained at a breath.
Then the csikós began. Leaning on his elbows he remarked,
"This is a fine large puszta, this Hortobágy, eh, comrade?"
"Truly it is!"