nybody; you know the old saying, 'the good will of a dog is better
than--'"

"Oh, shut up!" said Morgan, "you make me tired! You're a damned
coward, and that's all there is about it. It's my opinion, though, in
the case of this dog, that his bark is a good deal worse than his
bite."

Meanwhile, Houston was preparing to go to the office.

"Say, old boy," said Rutherford, "hadn't I better go down with you?
You may have some trouble, you know, and I shouldn't wonder if they
would be two pretty nasty fellows to meddle with."

"Much obliged, Ned," said Houston, "but I can take care of those two
fellows, and twenty more just like them. Haight is an out and out
coward, he wouldn't fight any more than he would cut his own throat.
Morgan would show fight, perhaps, but I'd finish him up before he even
knew where he was."

"I guess I put my foot in it, saying what I did," said Rutherford,
staring through his eye-glasses in a meditative manner, "but it did
make me hot, their insinuating things in that way about such a nice
little girl as Lyle, and before Miss Gladden, too."

"There will be no more of it, that is certain," replied Houston
decidedly, and he was gone.

CHAPTER XI.

A few moments later, Houston stepped briskly into the office. Morgan
sat at his desk, sorting some mining reports, and looked up with a
sullen, defiant glance, but Houston ignored him, and going to his own
desk, began making preparations for his day's work.

Bull-dog, who, since washing the windows, had constituted himself
office boy, had built the fire and was now sweeping. Houston greeted
him pleasantly, but his keen eyes at once detected trouble between
Houston and Morgan, and he was immediately on the alert.

After the little fellow had finished his work, and Houston supposed he
had gone, he walked with a firm, decided step, over to where Morgan
stood lounging and looking out of the window. Morgan turned, and angry
as he was, he could not help a feeling of admiration for the splendid,
athletic form standing, firm as a rock, before him. Houston's keen,
dark eyes looked straight into his own, and for a moment, not a muscle
of his face moved, the finely cut features might have been chiseled in
stone; then he spoke, in even, measured tones, cold and cutting as
steel itself:

"Mr. Morgan, I have this much to say to you, and it will be well for
you to remember it; that if I ever hear another insinuation against
that young lady of whom y