am goin' to take a little stroll over yonder towards that
luxurious mansion and get a drink from the well. Want to go along?"

"With pleasure," answered the Eastern man.

The two strolled slowly towards the house, which was decidedly in need
of repair. The fence surrounding it was broken down in many places,
weeds and grass filled the little yard in which there were still
evidences of some past attempts at ornamentation in the way of
flower-beds, and the whole place gave evidence of poverty and lack of
care. On the porch was seated a girl apparently between twelve and
fourteen years of age. She was hugging an immense shaggy dog and crying
as if her heart would break.

"What's the matter, sis?" sympathetically inquired the Cowboy.

"Oh, sir (sob), Jake's goin' to kill my Rover."

"What for?"

The sobs subsided a little and the girl looked up, wiping her eyes on
her torn apron.

"Why, he bited Jake because he tried to kiss me and I didn't--want him
to--and they are goin' to come and kill him."

"Who is goin' to come and kill him?"

"The feller he bited--Jake."

"There, don't cry, little un; seems to me the purp did the proper caper.
What do you think, pardner?"

"In my opinion," answered the Eastern man, "the dog's action was
decidedly laudatory."

"And yer think same as I do that the pup hadn't ought to be killed for
doin' it?"

"Decidedly not."

"Say, sis, ain't yer got any friends to sort of stand off the feller as
allows to do the killin'?"

"No, sir, nobody except father, and he--drinks sometimes and don't care
for Rover, and he says he don't want no trouble."

"Ain't yer got no one else?"

"No, sir; nobody but Rover. Mother's dead and I ain't got nobody but
Rover. Oh, dear me!"

The girl buried her face in the shaggy coat of her friend and sobbed.

The Cowboy sat down on the step beside her; the dog eyed him
inquiringly, but evidently decided he was a friend and wagged his tail
slightly.

"Don't cry, my girl; brace up, now; perhaps they won't kill him after
all."

"Oh, yes, they will. Jake is over in the saloon now; I saw him go in.
He'll do it sure; he hates Rover."

"May I speak to your lap-dog? Will he tear me up much if I pat him?"
inquired the Cowboy.

"I wouldn't fool with him, sir; Rover don't like strangers."

The Cowboy snapped his fingers at the dog and called to him:

"Come here, Rover."

The splendid animal walked solemnly to him and, resting his head on his
knee, lo