een in the giant's mind, no
doubt. But when, after that, he came and leaned over Donnegan's bunk,
the master closed his eyes and kept on breathing regularly, and finally
George returned to his own place--softly as a gigantic cat. Even in the
master's sleep he found something to be dreaded, and Donnegan knew that
he could now trust the fellow through anything. In the morning, at the
first touch of light, he had gone to the stores and collected
provisions. And a comfortable breakfast followed.

"Godwin," resumed Donnegan, "was talented in many ways."

The big man showed his teeth in silence; for since Godwin proposed the
sacrifice of the servant to preserve himself, George had apparently
altered his opinion of the gambler.

"A talented man, George, but he knew nothing about coffee. It should
never boil. It should only begin to cream through the crust. Let that
happen; take the pot from the fire; put it back and let the surface
cream again. Do this three times, and then pour the liquid from the
grounds and you have the right strength and the right heating. You
understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"And concerning the frying of bacon--"

At this point the interruption came in the shape of four men at the open
door; and one of these Donnegan recognized as the real estate dealer,
who had shrewdly set up tents and shacks on every favorable spot in The
Corner and was now reaping a rich harvest. Gloster was his name. It was
patent that he did not see in the man in the silk dressing robe the
unshaven miscreant of the day before who had rented the two tents.

"How'dee," he said, standing on the threshold, with the other three in
the background.

Donnegan looked at him and through him.

"My name is Gloster. I own this shack and I've come to find out why
you're in it."

"George," said Donnegan, "speak to him. Tel! him that I know houses are
scarce in The Corner; that I found this place by accident vacant; that I
intend to stay in it on purpose."

George Washington Green instantly rose to the situation; he swallowed a
vast grin and strode to the door. And though Mr. Gloster's face
crimsoned with rage at such treatment he controlled his voice. In The
Corner manhood was apt to be reckoned by the pound, and George was a
giant.

"I heard what your boss said, buddie," said Gloster. "But I've rented
this cabin and the next one to these three gents and their party, and
they want a home. Nothing to do but vacate. Which speed is the thin