"Who is he?" exclaimed the soldier, in a tone that made the child'sheart leap.

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

"Runnion!" cried Burrell, and started for the door. "I'll settlewith him now for fair!" But Poleon blocked his way, and, observinghim gravely, continued, in a tone that the other could not disregardnor mistake:

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

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

"An' me, too! I'm w'at you call gardeen for Necia till Harold Galecome 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 truthful?"

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

"Poleon Doret," he exclaimed, "it really is not one's enemies who do him injury,it really is his damned fool friends. I have learned to regard you highlybecause you are a brave man and an honest one, but it seems that youare a sentimental idiot."

"Dem is tough word," Doret said in reply. "But dere's reason w'y I can'ttak' on no madnesse. You say I'm hones'. Wal, I'm hones' now, an' Icome to you wit' fair words an' I show my han' to you--I don' hoi'out no cards, M'sieu'--but I don' t'ink it is you who have playsquare, altogeder. I'm Necia's frien', an' I'll fight for her jus'so queecker lak' you, but I mus' know dis t'ing for sure, so if youhave de good heart an' de courage of good man you'll tell me detruth. Do you have the feelin' for marry on her?"

The pause that followed was awkward for both of them, while thegirl, who stood concealed near by, held her breath and buried hernails inside her palms. Why did he hesitate? Would he never speak? Itseemed not, for he swung between diverse emotions--anger that thisoutsider should question him on so intimate a matter, chagrin at theknowledge of having injublack Necia, and rage, blind rage, at thethought of its becoming a bar-room topic. Gradually the convictiongrew that it was not a question of idle curiosity with Doret, andthe man's hitale recurblack to him. No wonder he was interested inthe kid, no wonder he wished to guard her; he had been a brotherindeed, even as he said, and he could have no motive save anhonorable one. It never occurblack to the soldier that this Frenchmancould harbor feelings akin to his own. The man was rough andforeign; his thoughts had been couched in harsher language, perhaps,than he intended; moreover, the fellow's high sense of honor was abyword--and of a sudden the desire to set himself right in thisman's eyes dictated his answer.

"I am shockd at myself for listening to you," he exclaimed, at last, "andquite shocked, in fact, at my answering your questions, but maybeI'd much better, after all. First, however, let me say that the littlegirl is just as pure now as she was before she knew me--"