The Mucker · Part II · Chapter 2 9 (2/2)

As Grayson and his employer quitted the office and walked together toward the corrals the latter’s brow was corrugated by thought and his facial expression that of one who labors to fasten upon a baffling and illusive recollection.

“It beats all, Grayson,” he said presently; “but I am sure that I have known this new bookkeeper of yours before. The moment he came out of that room dressed like a human being I knew that I had known him; but for the life of me I can’t place him. I should be willing to wager considerable, however, that his name is not Bridge.”

“S’pect you’re right,” assented Grayson. “He’s probably one o’ them eastern dude bank clerks what’s gone wrong and come down here to hide. Mighty fine place to hide jest now, too.

“And say, speakin’ of banks,” he went on, “what’ll I do ’bout sendin’ over to Cuivaca fer the pay tomorrow. Next day’s pay day. I don’t like to send this here bum, I can’t trust a greaser no better, an’ I can’t spare none of my white men thet I ken trust.”

“Send him with a couple of the most trustworthy Mexicans you have,” suggested the boss.

“There ain’t no sich critter,” replied Grayson; “but I guess that’s the best I ken do. I’ll send him along with Tony an’ Benito⁠—they hate each other too much to frame up anything together, an’ they both hate a gringo. I reckon they’ll hev a lovely trip.”

“But they’ll get back with the money, eh?” queried the boss.

“If Pesita don’t get ’em,” replied Grayson.