ght from a Siwash Indian the most contemptible-looking cur ever
beheld at the inlet, and he christened the unfortunate beast--Dennis.
There was a resemblance between dog and man. Each, in the struggle for
existence, had received more than his due share of kicks, and the
sense of this in any animal manifests itself unmistakably. And each,
moreover, exhibited the same amazing optimism, which is, perhaps, a
sure sign of a mind not quite balanced.

Dennis, the dog, followed his new master wherever he went. Tom would
introduce him with the remark, "His name is Dennis, _too_." And
if Dennis, the man, happened to be present, Tom would swear at the
dog, calling him every evil name which came to the tip of the foulest
tongue in British Columbia. Always, at the end of these commination
services, Tom would say to Dennis, the man, "I an't a-speakin' to you,
old socks, so keep yer hair on."

That the cow-puncher (who, in his day, must have carried a "gun") did
keep on his hair became a topic of talk amongst the boys, confirming a
conviction that Dennis had been aptly named. Certainly he lacked
backbone and jawbone. Moreover, change of skies brought to him no
change of luck. Within a fortnight he was badly hurt, and obliged to
remain in bed for nearly a week.

"I got mixed up with a log," he explained to Mamie. "It bruk loose,
an' I didn't quite get outer the way. See?"

"Me, too," whispered Mamie. "Same trouble here--'zactly."

Twice while he lay upon his back she brought to the bunk-house a
chocolate layer cake and some broth. Upon the occasion of her third
visit she came empty-handed, with her too pale eyes full of tears, and
her heart full of indignation.

"I ain't got nothing," she muttered. "Tom says it's his grub."

"That's all right," replied Dennis, noting that she walked stiffly.
"But, look ye here; he ain't been wallopin' ye, has he?"

"Yes, he has. When he was through I tole him I'd sooner have his blows
than his kisses any day."

"I hadn't oughter hev come here," said Dennis.

"Never saw the sun shine till you did," murmured Mamie.

At this he tried to take her hand, but she evaded his grasp. Then,
with an extraordinary dignity, looking deep into the man's eyes, she
said slowly: "I tole you that because it's God's truth, and sorter
justifies your comin'; but I aim ter be an honest woman, and you must
help me to remain so."

With that she flitted away.

Next day Dennis went back to work. And what work, for