know why you sent for me, Poleon. I've heard the news, and I would
have been up anyhow to congratulate her very soon. I call it pretty
fine."

"Yes, dere's been beeg strike all right, an' Necia is goin' be riche
gal."

"I'm as pleased as if the claim were mine, and you feel the same way,
of course."

The Frenchman nodded. "I love Necia very much, lak'--well, lak' I'm
broder to her." The knowledge that she was listening made him very
uncomfortable--in fact, this whole affair savored more of
double-dealing and treachery than anything he had ever attempted, and
it went sorely against his grain, but it had presented itself as the
only way to help her, and he proceeded, groping haltingly for fit
expression, "Dere's t'ing I want for talk 'bout wit' you, but I'm
scare' you'll t'ink I'm butt in."

"Nonsense," said Burrell. "I know you too well for that."

"You know me for good man, eh? An' you know I ain' try for bre'k up
oder fellers' biznesse, never! Wal, I'm come to you now lak' wan good
man to 'noder biccause I'm got bad trouble on de min', an' you mus'n't
get sore."

"There's no danger, Poleon. Let's have it. If there is anything I can
do, you may count on me."

"Wal," he began, nervously, clearing his throat, "it's lak' dis. Dere's
feller been talk some 'bout Necia, an' it ain' nice talk neider."

"Who is he?" exclaimed the soldier, in a tone that made the girl's
heart leap.

"Wait! Lemme tol' you w'at he say, den we'll talk 'bout feex 'im
plaintee. He say dere's joke down on Stark's saloon dat Necia Gale is
mak' fool of herse'f on you, an' dat you ain' care for marry her."

"Runnion!" cried Burrell, and started for the door. "I'll settle with
him now for fair!" But Poleon blocked his way, and, observing him
gravely, continued, in a tone that the other could not disregard nor
mistake:

"No, M'sieu', before you pass on dat place you'll tol' me if it's true."

"True!" the Lieutenant retorted, angrily. "What business is it of
yours? This concerns me."

"An' me, too! I'm w'at you call gardeen for Necia till John Gale come
back, an' I'm broder of her, too. You promis' jus' now you don' get
mad, an' I don' say she's Runnion neider w'at spik dose t'ing; dere's
more dan 'im been talkin'. Is it true?"

His sternness offended Burrell, for the soldier was not the kind to
discuss his affairs in this way, therefore he drew back scowling.

"Poleon Doret," he said, "it's not one's enemies who do him injury,
it's hi