'Scuse, please. Yes, sir, I zink I go very quick, sir."
"Three cheers! The sooner the quicker--the next train, let us say.
I'll be at the station to see you off."
He was as good as his word. The Potato Baron, mounting painfully the
steps of the observation car, made hasty appraisal of the station
platform and observed Bill Conway swinging his old legs from his perch
on an express truck. He favored Okada with a very deliberate nod and a
sweeping, semi-military salute of farewell.
When the train pulled out, the old contractor slid off the express
truck and waddled over to his automobile. "Well, Liz," he addressed
that interesting relic, "I'll bet a red apple I've put the fear of
Buddha in that Jap's soul. He won't try any more tricks in San Marcos
County. He certainly did assimilate my advice and drag it out of town
_muy pronto_. Well, Liz, as the feller says: 'The wicked flee when no
man pursueth and a troubled conscience addeth speed to the hind legs.'"
As he was driving out of town to the place of his labors at Agua
Caliente basin, he passed the Parker limousine driving in. Between
John Parker's wife and John Parker's daughter, Don Miguel Jose Farrel
sat with white face and closed eyes. In the seat beside his chauffeur
John Parker sat, half turned and gazing at Don Miguel with troubled
eyes.
"That girl's sweeter than a royal flush," Bill Conway murmured.
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