ight, of large frame, and manifestly the possessor of great
muscular strength. Although he knew his dog had suffered no harm and was
safe, he was enraged over his maltreatment and resolute to wreak
vengeance upon the author of the insult.

Mike read his purpose, poised himself and put up his fists.

"Now for the next dog and it's mesilf that is ready fur him."

It would give me pleasure to tell how Mike Murphy vanquished the giant
who attacked him, but such a statement would be as untrue as absurd. You
have read of the dude who daintily slipped off his kid gloves, adjusted
his eyeglasses, and proceeded to chastise an obstreperous cowboy; but
take it from me that no such thing ever occurred, except in stories.
Nature governs through rigid laws, and two and two will always make four.
It might have been creditable to the courage of the Irish youth thus to
engage in a bout with a man who would have quickly beaten him to the
earth, but it would have shown very poor judgment. Had they clashed there
could have been only one end to the encounter.

But they did not clash. Several paces separated the two, when Stockham
Calvert, his thin gray coat buttoned around his trim form, stepped
quickly between them, and, looking sharply into the face of the savage
stranger, said in a voice that showed not the least agitation:

"Stop! he's my friend!"

He raised one hand, palm outward by way of emphasis of his warning words.

"Who are you?" demanded the other, stopping short, his eyes flaming above
his shaggy beard and under his straw hat, like an animal glaring through
a thicket.

"Come on and you'll learn!" was the reply in the same even tones, as
Calvert assumed the posture of a trained pugilist.

Now it is proper to say of this man that he had been the champion boxer
in college, and in his New York club he was easily the master of every
one with whom he had donned the gloves. Though of only average size and
stature and inclined to thinness, his muscles were of steel, he had the
quickness of a cat, and had been told more than once, that if he would
enter the "magic circle" he would hold his own with the best in the
profession. But, like all gentlemen who are masters of the manly art, he
disliked personal encounters, and many a time had submitted to insulting
words and even the accusation of timidity, rather than to call his iron
fists and superb skill into play. You might have been in his company for
months without suspecting hi