"Yes—oh yes—I'm hep all right."
"And the Senor Fat will r-r-re-member?"
"Sure!" Glass sighed miserably, and tearing his eyes away from the glittering blade, rolled them toward his employer. "I don't want her! Mr. Speed knows I don't want her!"
Carara bowed. "And the Fat Senor will not spik wit' her again?"
"No!"
"Gracias, Senor! I thank you!"
"You're welcome!" agreed the New Yorker, with repressed feeling.
"Adios! Adios, Senor Speed!"
"Good-bye!" exclaimed the two in chorus.
Carara returned the knife to its hiding-place, swept the floor gracefully with his sombrero, then placing the spangled head- piece at an exact angle upon his raven locks, lounged out, his silver spurs tinkling in the silence.