I did not go out into the Bay this time, but kept leisurely along the beach fronting the neighbouring property, keeping at a safe distance from the tangle of seaweed, which, somehow, seemed to gather at that particular part of the Crescent.

I amused myself for half an hour, then I returned dripping and in splendid humour with myself, with my friends and even with Joe Clark.

I did not notice an extra boat moored alongside the miscellaneous small craft at the wharf, so, when I stepped noiselessly into my front room, I was more than surprised to find Rita Clark standing there, in the fading light, looking over my book shelves.

She turned with an exclamation, and her face lit up with a smile which was bewitching, although I fancied it just a little bit forced.

"Oh!--it's you," she cried. "I knew you wouldn't be very long away.

Been having another try to see whether you're a man or a fish? Guess the fish will win out if you're not careful."

She became solemn suddenly.

"Say!--you go in there and get dressed. I just got to talk to you about something."

"Gracious goodness! Is it as serious as all that, Miss Clark?" I quizzed.

"Serious enough. You go in and hurry, anyway."

"I won't be two minutes," I cried, going into my bedroom and dressing as quickly as possible, puzzling all the while as to what the girl had on her mind. Something connected with Joe,--I hadn't a doubt.

"Well,--what's the trouble?" I asked, as I returned and sat down in a wicker chair opposite her.

She seemed more glum than ever.

"What did you want to go and sc.r.a.p with Joe for?" she asked in a worried way.

"I'm very sorry, Miss Clark----"

"Oh!--call me Rita," she put in impatiently.

"Well,--I'm very sorry,--Rita,--but I did not quarrel with Joe. He quarrelled with me."

"It's all the same," she replied. "Takes two to do it. Couldn't you find another way than that?"

Her eyes were bright and her bosom was disturbed.

"I thought, maybe, you and him might be friends; but I might have known," she went on bitterly. "He only makes friends with the men who lay down to him. You ain't that sort."

I threw out my hands helplessly.

"Well, Rita, don't you worry your little head over it. It is all right."

"Oh, no, it ain't! Don't fool yourself. You don't know Joe."

"I reckoned him a man who could keep his own counsel. How did you come to hear there had been any words?"

"He was over home. He only comes once in a while now. He didn't do anything but talk about you. Called you all kinds of things. Says he'll fix you good;--and he will, too, or he ain't the Joe Clark everybody knows around here."

Her eyes became tender and moist as she held out her hands to me with an involuntary movement. "Oh! what did you want to quarrel with him for, before you knew anything about him?"

I rose and laid my hand lightly on her shoulder, as I would with a little sister,--had I had one,--for she seemed only a slip of a girl and it hurt me to see her so upset.

"Look here! little maid," I said, "you forget all about it. Joe came in here and asked me to do what the man who employed me particularly instructed me against doing. I declined, and Joe became foolish, losing his temper completely. This Joe likes to trample on men. He grew angry because I would not let him do any trampling on me. No!

Rita, I am not a teeny-weeny little bit afraid of Joe Clark."

She looked up at me in astonishment, then she sort of despaired again.

"Oh! that's 'cause you don't know him. Everybody's got to do as Joe says,--here and in the Camps and pretty near all along the coast."

I laughed easily; for what did I care? Joe's worst, whatever it might be, could not hurt me very badly. I was not so deeply into anything yet for that.

"He's a big man, and can hurt,--and he hurts everybody that runs up against him."

I leaned over against the window ledge and surveyed Rita.

"Well,--" I said, "I'm not as big as Joe is, but I have been schooled to hold my own. Joe shall have a good run for his money when he starts."

"Oh!--I know you're strong, and big, though not as big as him, and that you ain't afraid. Maybe that's why I like Joe sometimes,--he's never afraid.

"Still,--I don't like him half as much as I used to," she sighed. "But I didn't mean fighting when I talked of him being big and strong.

Joe's got influence, Joe's got money, he's got tugs and he's superintendent of the Camps. He says he's boss of the whole shootin'

match, and you'll find it out soon."

"He may be nearly all you say, but he has nothing to do with George Bremner running this little Trading Company any more than being under the necessity of buying his supplies here. I was put in by Mr. Horsfal himself, to be under no one, and with the appointment of superintendent of his Golden Crescent property. So, here I am like to stay as long as I want to, or until Mr. Horsfal says differently."

Rita glanced up at me and her eyes brightened with a ray of hope.

"And Joe ain't got nothing to say about it?"

"Not a particle. If he had had, I would not be here now. He would have sacked me on the spot."

"Really and truly, he ain't?" she cried, with fresh anxiety.

"Really and truly," I repeated.

"Oh! goody, goody,--"

Poor little Rita;--all sunshine and shower. She was as merry as a kitten for a time, then she dropped back into her serious mood.

"What!--haven't all your worries gone yet?" I asked.

"Some," she said, "but not them all. Do you know what Joe is, George?

He's a bully."

"He is, undoubtedly," I agreed.

"Ya!--he is, all right. Still,--it ain't all his fault either. He's handling rough men, and men that are bullies same as he is. He's got to get the work done and done quick.

"Joe ain't bad. No, siree. Ask Josh Doogan, who was down and out with something in his inside last year. When the doctor told him an operation by a specialist in Philadelphia was the only thing that would save him, and he hadn't a cent, Joe fixed him up and Josh is back working in the Camps to-day. Yes!--ask Jem Sullivan, who got into trouble with the police in Vancouver. He's working for Joe and he's making good, too. Ask Jenny Daykin who it was that took care of her for a year, after her Sam was drowned out at The Ghoul there, until her young Sam finished for a school teacher. Ask,--Oh! ask most anybody; grand-dad even, though he won't take a nickel from Joe or anybody else except what he works for,--ask him. He's queer, is Joe, and I ain't a bit struck on him,--not now,--I 'most hate him. But he ain't got a bad heart, all the same."