Bridge continued to sit where he had reined in his pony. He was looking at Grayson with what the discerning boss judged to be politely concealed enjoyment.
"Possibly," suggested the boss in a whisper to his aide, "the man has business with you. You did not ask him, and I am sure that he said nothing about wishing a meal or a place to sleep."
"Huh?" grunted Grayson, and then to Bridge, "Well, what the devil DO you want?"
"A job," replied Bridge, "or, to be more explicit, I need a job--far be it from me to WISH one."
The Easterner smiled. Grayson looked a bit mystified--and irritated.
"Well, I hain't got none," he snapped. "We don't need nobody now unless it might be a good puncher--one who can rope and ride."
"I can ride," replied Bridge, "as is evidenced by the fact that you now see me astride a horse."
"I said RIDE," said Grayson. "Any fool can SIT on a horse. NO, I hain't got nothin', an' I'm busy now. Hold on!" he exclaimed as though seized by a sudden inspiration. He looked sharply at Bridge for a moment and then shook his head sadly. "No, I'm afraid you couldn't do it--a guy's got to be eddicated for the job I got in mind."
"Washing dishes?" suggested Bridge.
Grayson ignored the playfulness of the other's question.
"Keepin' books," he explained. There was a finality in his tone which said: "As you, of course, cannot keep books the interview is now over. Get out!"
"I could try," said Bridge. "I can read and write, you know. Let me try." Bridge wanted money for the trip to Rio, and, too, he wanted to stay in the country until Billy was ready to leave.
"Savvy Spanish?" asked Grayson.
"I read and write it better than I speak it," said Bridge, "though I do the latter well enough to get along anywhere that it is spoken."
Grayson wanted a bookkeeper worse than he could ever recall having wanted anything before in all his life. His better judgment told him that it was the height of idiocy to employ a ragged bum as a bookkeeper; but the bum was at least as much of a hope to him as is a straw to a drowning man, and so Grayson clutched at him.
"Go an' turn your cayuse in an' then come back here," he directed, "an' I'll give you a tryout."