of proclaiming the good deed he had done.

"Out a little while!" roared the major, with an oath that froze the
boy's blood. "That is enough--enough, sir. You know I don't allow man
or boy to leave the stable without letting me know it."

"I was wrong, sir; but I--"

"You little snivelling monkey, how dared you leave the stable?"
continued the stable keeper, heedless of the boy's submission. "I'll
teach you better than that."

"Will you?" said Harry, suddenly changing his tone, as his blood began
to boil. "You can begin as quick as you like."

"You saucy young cub! I have a great mind to give you a cowhiding,"
thundered the enraged stable keeper.

"I should like to see you do it," replied Harry, fixing his eyes on
the poker that lay on the floor near the stove.

"Should you, you impertinent puppy?"

The major sprang forward, as if to grasp the boy by the collar; but
Harry, with his eyes still fixed on the poker, retreated a pace or
two, ready to act promptly when the decisive moment should come.
Forgetting for the time that he had run away from one duty to attend
to another, he felt indignant that he should be thus rudely treated
for being absent a short time on an errand of love and charity. He
gave himself too much credit for the good deed, and felt that he was a
martyr to his philanthropic spirit. He was willing to bear all and
brave all in a good cause; and it seemed to him, just then, as though
he was being punished for assisting Joe Flint's family, instead of for
leaving his place without permission. A great many persons who mean
well are apt to think themselves martyrs for any good cause in which
they may be engaged, when, in reality, their own want of tact, or the
offensive manner in which they present their truth, is the stake at
which they are burned.

"Keep off!" said Harry, his eyes flashing fire.

The major was so angry that he could do nothing; and while they were
thus confronting each other, Joe Flint staggered into the counting
room. Intoxicated as he was, he readily discovered the position of
affairs between the belligerents.

"Look here--hic--Major Phillips," said he, reeling up to his employer,
"I love you--hic--Major Phillips, like a--hic--like a brother, Major
Phillips; but if you touch that boy, Major Phillips, I'll--hic--you
touch me, Major Phillips. That's all."

"Go home, Joe," replied the stable keeper, his attention diverted from
Harry to the new combatant. "You are drunk."

"