“You durned old hawss-stealing greaser, cayn’t you talk English?” drawled the gipsy, with a grin.
The other’s mouth fell open with astonishment He stared at the slim, dusky young Spaniard for an instant before he fell upon him and began to pound his body with jovial fists.
“You would, would you, you old pie-eating fraud! Try to fool your Uncle Mick and make him think you a greaser, would you? I’ll learn yez to play horse with a fullgrown, able-bodied white man.” He punctuated his points with short-arm jolts that Bucky laughingly parried.
“Before ladies, Mick! Haven’t you forgot your manners, Red-haid?”
Swiftly Mr. O’Halloran came to flushed rigidity. “Madam, I must still be apologizing. The surprise of meeting me friend went to me head, I shouldn’t wonder.”
Bucky doubled up with apparent mirth. “Get into the other room, Curly, and get your other togs on,” he ordered. “Can’t you see that Mick is going to fall in love with you if he sees you a minute longer, you young rascal? Hike!”
“Don’t you talk that way to a lady, Bucky,” warned O’Halloran, again blushing vividly, after she had disappeared into the next room. “And I want to let yez have it right off the bat that if you’ve been leading that little Mexican señorita into trouble you’ve got a quarrel on with Mike O’Halloran.”
“Keep your shirt on, old fire-eater. Who told you I was wronging her any?”
“Are you married to her?”
“You bet I ain’t. You see, Mick, that handsome lady you’re going to lick the stuffing out of me about is only a plumb ornery sassy young boy, after all.”