r best friend!"

"How about the time they beat out them Apaches?" asked the clerk, settling
back comfortably against the coach.

"You get out!" yelled Bill pugnaciously. "Who asked you for talk, hey? And
get away from that coach, you idiot, you'll dirty it all up!"

"Sic 'em, Tige!" jeered the clerk pleasantly. "Chew 'em up!"

"What!" yelled Bill, swiftly grabbing up the pail of water which stood
near him. "Sic 'em, is it!" he cried, running forward. "Chew 'em up,
hey!" he continued, heaving the contents of the pail at the clerk, who
nimbly sprang inside the vehicle and slammed the door shut behind him as
the water struck it. He leaped out of the other door and was safely away
before Bill realized what had happened. Then the driver said things when
he saw the mess he had made of the coach, upon which he had spent two
hard hours in polishing.

"Suffering dogs!" he shouted, dancing first on one foot and then on the
other. "Now look what you've done! You're a h--l of a feller, you are!
After me rubbing the skin off'n my hands and breaking my arms a-polishing
it up! You good for nothing, mangy half-breed! Wait till I get a hold of
you, you long pair of legs, you! Just wait! I'll show you, all right!"

The clerk twiddled his fingers from afar and jeered in his laughter:
"Serves you right! Sic 'em, Towser! Eat 'em up, Fido! Sic 'em, sic 'em!"
he shouted joyously, and forthwith ran for his life.

Bill returned to the coach and worked like mad to undo the evil effects
he had wrought and finally succeeded in bringing a phantom glow to the
time-battered wood. Then he hitched up and drove to the sheriff's house,
where he saw huge baskets on the porch.

"Good morning, Mrs. Shields," he said as he stamped to the door. "Good
morning, ladies."

"Good morning William," replied the sheriff's wife as she hurried to
collect shawls and blankets. "Will you mind putting those baskets on
the coach, William? We will soon be ready."

"Why, certainly not, ma'am," he answered, recklessly grabbing up the two
largest. "Jimminee!" he exulted. "These are shore heavy, all right, all
right! Must be plumb full of good things! To-day is where your Uncle
Bill Halloway gets square for the dinner the company froze him out of.
Wonder if there's apricot pie in this one?" he mused curiously. He
gingerly raised the cover and a grin distorted his face. "Must be six,
yes, eight--mebby ten!" he soliloquized as he placed it on the stage.
"Hullo, bottles