Jimmy bridled at the other’s impudent curiosity and the tones in which it was voiced, and as he looked the stranger over a contemptuous smile flickered about his thin lips. "Why, I ’m goin’ west, an’ I ’m lookin’ for th’ sunset," he answered with an exasperating drawl. "Ain’t seen it, have you?" The other’s expression remained unchanged, as if he had not heard the flippant and pugnacious answer. "Where you goin’ an’ what for?" he demanded again. Jimmy turned further around in the saddle and his eyes narrowed. "I ’m goin’ to mind my own business, because it’s healthy," he retorted. "You th’ President, or only a king?" he demanded, sarcastically. "I ’m boss of Tortilla range," came the even reply. "You answer my question." "Then you can gimme a job an’ save me a lot of fool ridin’," smiled Jimmy. "It ’ll be some experience workin’ for a sour dough as ornery as you are. Fifty per’, an’ all th’ rest of it. Where do I eat an’ sleep?" The stranger gazed steadily at the cool, impudent youngster, who returned the look with an ironical smile. "Who sent you out here?" he demanded with blunt directness. "Nobody," smiled Jimmy. "Nobody sends me nowhere, never, ’less ’n I want to go. Purty near time to eat, ain’t it?" "Come over here," commanded the Boss of Tortilla range. "It’s closer from you to me than from me to you." "Yo ’re some sassy, now ain’t you? I ’ve got a notion to drop you an’ save somebody else th’ job." "He ’ll be lucky if you do, ’cause when that gent drifts along I ’m natchurally goin’ to get there first. It’s been tried already." Anger glinted in the Boss’s eyes, but slowly faded as a grim smile fought its way into view. "I ’ve a mind to give you a job just for th’ great pleasure of bustin’ yore spirit." "If yo ’re bettin’ on that card you wants to have a copper handy," bantered Jimmy. "It’s awful fatal when it’s played to win." "What’s yore name, you cub?" "Elijah—ain’t I done prophesied? When do I start punchin’ yore eight cows, Boss?" "Right now! I like yore infernal gall; an’ there’s a pleasant time comin’ when I starts again’ that spirit." "Then my name’s Jimmy, which is enough for you to know. Which cow do I punch first?" he grinned. "You ride ahead along th’ trail. I ’ll show you where you eat," smiled the Boss, riding toward him. Jimmy’s face took on an expression of innocence that was ludicrous. "I allus let age go first," he slowly responded. "I might get lost if I lead. I ’m plumb polite, I am." The Boss looked searchingly at him and the smile faded. "What you mean by that?" "Just what I said. I ’m plumb polite, an’ hereby provin’ it. I allus insist on bein’ polite. Otherwise, gimme my month’s pay an’ I ’ll resign. But I ’m shore some puncher," he laughed. "I observed yore politeness. I ’m surprised you even know th’ term. But are you shore you won’t get lost if you foller me?" asked the Boss with great sarcasm.