He turned his head and looked attentively at the house.
"Quien sabe, senor." The senor he added for sake of the coin he had not seen.

"Mucho name, Ah'm theenk." "Think some more." Johnny poured the last of the gas and caused another clinking sound in the can.

The Mexican's eyes were as wide open now as they would ever be, and he even called a faint smile to his countenance.
"Some-_times_--Sawb," he recollected, and reached for the can.
"Sawb--What y'mean, Sawb?
That's no name for a man.

You mean Schwab ?" "Si, senor--Sawb." He glanced again at the house distrustfully, as if he feared even his murmur might be overheard.
"All right.

Get the water now." "Si, senor." And he went for it at a trot, that he might the sooner investigate the source of those clinking sounds.
"Schwab! Uhm-hm--he looks it, all right." He stepped down to the ground, pulled a handful of silver from his pocket and eyed it speculatively, glancing now and then after the receding Mexican.