"Well, then go about your miserable business and quit bothering me," commanded Peter. "You haven't answered me yet about police protection," said Mike. "Oh, go away; they'll not bother you," replied Peter, impatiently, shaking his head as if he were shaking the words out of his mouth. "Have I your word for it?" demanded Mike. "That's all I have to say. Go!" snorted the now exasperated Peter, resuming his habitual work of spying. Mike retreated, like a man who is cornered by a bear in his den, going out at the opportune time. Passing through the store he beheld Eli looking as dumbly as a lamppost at him. Mike skinned his eyes, as it were, lest Eli should pounce upon him again, and complete the operation of a sound threshing. But Mike got safely to the outer door, and was about to go out, when he turned and hurled back at Eli, shaking his fist: "I'll fix you, you hireling!" Eli, becoming riled at the threatening taunt, made a rush for Mike, like a terrier after a scampering cat; but Mike soon disappeared around a corner, leaving Eli standing in the door shaking his fist at the vanishing figure, who did not cease running till he got two or three blocks away, so fearful was he of Eli. As Eli turned to re-enter the shop, he ran counter to a man--a tall, slouchy fellow with a stubby moustache, short hair, red nose, round face, brown eyes, white complexioned--who had entered unobserved, while Eli was sending his sworn enemy threateningly away. The man sallied lazily through the alleys of junk, paying no heed whatever to the ubiquitous clerk, who was dogging his heels at every turn for an opportunity to inquire about his wants. Several times Eli was sure the man was about to stop and make reply to his questions; but in this he was sorely disappointed. For the man proceeded till he came to the door of Peter's cubby-hole, and was in the act of entering it, when, to his astonishment, he found Eli wraithing up before him in the doorway. The man hesitated for an instant, gave Eli a contemptuous smile, then, with a quick sweep of his strong arm, thrust him aside, as if he were only a part of The Die's junk that had got into his way. Eli, of course, was taken off his feet, both figuratively and literally, and went sprawling in a heap in a corner, on a pile of rubbish. "Come in!" shouted Peter to the man, with no thought as to what harm might have befallen the dutiful Eli, who, on catching his master's voice as meaning an intimate acquaintanceship with the man, gathered himself together, and took up his burdens still feeling unsquelched as a faithful servant. "Well, Jim," said Peter to the man, when he seated himself, "how's things going these days?" "Well enough," answered Jim Dalls. "Ford & Ford got the contract?" said Peter, without a semblance of his gladness over the matter in his own face. "Yes; they got it; but hell'll be to pay some day for that dirty piece of work," answered Jim Dalls, moodily.