"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.