yard beyond the window, shaded by the boughs of the cottonwoods,
diffused peace and drowsiness. The clerk closed his eyes.

"Just leave the deed and fee on the desk here," he murmured.

"And tip-toe out, too, I suppose."

"If you feel like it," the young Mexican remarked, with a faint
insolence in his voice, the insolence of a subordinate who believes
himself protected by his place.

Bryant's hand shot swiftly out to the speaker's shoulder. With a snap
that brought him up standing the clerk was jerked from his seat, and
before his startled wits gathered what was happening he was propelled
into the outer office.

"Record this deed, you forty-dollar-a-month penpusher, before I grow
peevish and rearrange your face," Bryant ordered, with his fingers
tightening their grasp on the youth's collar. "You're receiving your
pay from the county, and are presumed to give value received. Anyway,
value received is what I'm going to have now."

"Let go my neck!"

"Let go nothing. When I see you settle down to this big book, then I
let go. No '_mañana_' with me, boy; right here and now you're going to
give me an exhibition of rapid penmanship. Savey? Take up your pen;
that's the stuff. Now dip deep in the ink and draw a full breath and
go to it."