"What do you want here in Mexico?"
"Well, ol' top," replied Billy, "you see de birds was flyin'
south an' winter was in de air, an a fat-head dick from Chi
was on me trail--so I ducks."
"Ducks?" queried Pesita, mystified. "Ah, the ducks--they
fly south, I see."
"Naw, you poor simp--I blows," explained Billy.
"Ah, yes," agreed Pesita, not wishing to admit any
ignorance of plain American even before a despised gringo. "But
the large-faced dick--what might that be? I have spend much
time in the States, but I do not know that."
"I said 'fat-head dick'--dat's a fly cop," Billy elucidated.
"It is he then that is the bird." Pesita beamed at this
evidence of his own sagacity. "He fly."
"Flannagan ain't no bird--Flannagan's a dub."
Bridge came to the rescue.
"My erudite friend means," he explained, "that the police
chased him out of the United States of America."
Pesita raised his eyebrows. All was now clear to him.
"But why did he not say so?" he asked.
"He tried to," said Bridge. "He did his best."
"Quit yer kiddin'," admonished Billy.
A bright fight suddenly burst upon Pesita. He turned upon
Bridge.
"Your friend is not then an American?" he asked. "I
guessed it. That is why I could not understand him.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362