"No, sir, n.o.body 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; n.o.body but Rover. Mother's dead and I ain't got n.o.body but Rover. Oh, dear me!"

The girl buried her face in the s.h.a.ggy 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, looked up steadily into his face.

"Don't seem to be too savage nor nothin'--pretty decent sort of dog."

"Oh, he is, sir; he is just the sweetest, lovingest dog that ever lived.

I had him when he wa'n't no bigger than a c.o.o.n, and couldn't eat nothin'

but milk, and he loves me, don't you, Rover? and I love him, and he's all I've got to love in the world, and they're goin' to kill him. Oh, Rover, Rover, what shall I do? what shall I do?"

"Now, sis, tell us about the row--did the dog begin the trouble?"

"Oh, no, sir; Jake came along this morning and I was settin' here playin' with Rover, and Jake he grabbed me and tried to kiss me, and I put up a holler and Rover bited him in the leg. Jake swore and wanted to kill him, but he didn't darst to, and he didn't have no gun; so he's gone home to get his gun and he'll be back pretty quick and he's goin'

to kill him."

The girl had stopped crying, but little hysterical sobs choked her from time to time as she talked.

The Cowboy pulled the dog's ears gently and the animal responded by licking his hand.

"Seems to me, pardner, that Jake ain't actin' quite white in this deal."

"It's an outrage," warmly responded the Eastern man.

"I see two fellers," continued the Cowboy, gently stroking the dog's head, "comin' around the corner of the house; maybe we'd better ask 'um please not to hurt the dog."

"I agree with you, most decidedly."

The girl caught sight of the men and uttered a cry of fear. Seizing Rover by the collar, she attempted to drag him inside the house, but the dog braced himself and growled savagely, facing the newcomers.

"Say, pard," remarked the Cowboy quietly, "suppose they are impolite?"

"Well."

"Can you fight?"

"I can try."

"Bully for you, pard; that's the stuff! Shake."

The two men shook hands warmly. Jake and his companion were now very near, and as they came up Jake pulled a large revolver from its holster.

"Now, girl, get away from that dog; I'm goin' to shoot him and I don't want to hurt yer."

The girl turned white, but she placed herself in front of Rover, shielding him as much as she could with her slender body.

"Hold on, my friend," interposed the Cowboy; "you mus'n't shoot that dog."

"Who's goin' to stop me?" sneered Jake.

"I am."

"You are, are you? Well, I'm goin' to shoot him just the same."

"If you shoot that dog I'll give you such a beating yer own mother won't know yer. Sabby?"

"Won't, hey? Perhaps you notice I've got a gun?" said Jake, with an evil look in his eyes.

"I've got one, too, but I ain't pulled it yet," answered the Cowboy slowly.

"See here, now," interposed Jake's companion, "where do I come in?

What'll I be doin' all the time when you're smashin' up my pard here?"

"I will try and occupy your attention," quietly said the Eastern man.

"The h.e.l.l you will!"

"I will."

"Now, gentlemen," said the Cowboy, "we don't want no trouble, but there is a peck of it around here if you fellers try to hurt that dog. The dog bit yer because yer tried to kiss the girl, and he served you d.a.m.n well right!"

"It's a lie!" interrupted Jake sullenly.

How it was done the Eastern man never knew, but Jake went staggering backward, and when he recovered himself and stood with the blood trickling from a cut under his eye, the Cowboy had him covered with a big Colt's 45, and the eyes which looked at him over the barrel were ugly enough to make a gamer man than Jake feel uneasy.

"Drop yer gun."

Jake dropped it.