Go to the foreman and tell him I told him to pay you off and then clear out.

And, you hear me," he concluded, with a menacing outthrust of his lower jaw, "you hear me, if I catch you hanging around the ranch house after this, or if I so much as see you on Quien Sabe, I'll show you the way off of it, my friend, at the toe of my boot.

Now, then, get out of the way and let me pass." Angry beyond the power of retort, Delaney drove the spurs into the buckskin and passed the buggy in a single bound.

Annixter gathered up the reins and drove on muttering to himself, and occasionally looking back to observe the buckskin flying toward the ranch house in a spattering shower of mud, Delaney urging her on, his head bent down against the falling rain.
"Huh," grunted Annixter with grim satisfaction, a certain sense of good humour at length returning to him, "that just about takes the saleratus out of YOUR dough, my friend." A little farther on, Annixter got out of the buggy a second time to open another gate that let him out upon the Upper Road, not far distant from Guadalajara.

It was the road that connected that town with Bonneville and that ran parallel with the railroad tracks.