"I don't like that fellow, Phil," Dimples remarked, referring
to Diaz.
"Why not?"
"I think he is a bad man."
"I hope not. He is impulsive and--"
"Revengeful and ugly," finished Dimples.
"As I said, he is impulsive, like all of his race."
"What has been going on with you lately, Phil?"
"I don't understand what you mean?"
"Oh, yes, you do."
"You mean with regard to Diaz?"
"That's what I mean. Have you had any trouble?"
"We had a slight disagreement," admitted the lad.
"Tell me about it."
"Wait! There goes the music."
The ringmaster's whip cracked its warning and the gray horse
started at a slow gallop. Phil was up beside his companion with
agility and grace. The first round or two they stood poised on
the horse, while Phil related briefly what had taken place
between himself and Diaz.
"Come, aren't you two going to get to work?" demanded
the ringmaster.
"You attend to your own work. We'll look out for ours,"
snapped Dimples.
"Yes, and if you think you can do better just come up and try,"
added Phil, with a good-natured laugh.
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