"Yes," said Morgan, joining in the conversation, "she and the old man have some high old times, once in a while; and one thing is curious, the girl never seems afraid of him, and that's more than can be said of many of the men around here." "Why," asked Houston, "is he considered dangerous?" "He is a pretty tough customer," said Morgan, "I guess there's no job too dirty for him to do, if he's only paid for it;" and then added carelessly, "that's the kind of a man Blaisdell likes to have 'round once in a while." "What does he do?" asked Houston, "does he work in the mines?" "He used to," replied Morgan, "but he don't do any more underground work, he--" "Doesn't he?" interrupted Haight, with a peculiar emphasis. "Oh, yes, in some ways, plenty of it," laughed Morgan, "but I was speaking of the mines; he's a sort of foreman now in one of 'em, and tends to the sorting of the ore occasionally; helps Haight out sometimes, when he has a particularly delicate job on hand," and Morgan winked across the table at the expert, who smiled knowingly in return. Lyle coming into the room again, the talk regarding Maverick ceased, but when she had left, Morgan continued: "She's a queer girl; she gives it to the old man sometimes, up and down; the boys don't dare give him any lip, but she's no more afraid of him, than--" "Than she is of you," again interrupted Haight, with a smile that seemed to discompose Morgan considerably, for he colored and bit his lip. Miss Gladden looked annoyed, as did Houston, and Rutherford, feeling something was amiss, unintentionally said about the worst thing he could just at that moment. "I think Miss Maverick is an awfully nice girl." "We all think so," said Haight, in his blandest manner, "Mr. Morgan especially." "Oh," said Morgan, angrily, but trying to speak indifferently, "she's nice enough, as nice as girls of her class generally are." With a look of scorn and contempt that neither Haight nor Morgan soon forgot, Miss Gladden rose from the table and left the room, while Rutherford exclaimed indignantly: "Whatever 'her class' is, she is deucedly your superior, you contemptible puppy!" Lyle just then entering, there was an ominous silence for an instant; then Houston, rising from the table, remarked in a cool, even tone: "There has been enough said for the present, but" turning toward Morgan and Haight, "I've something to say to you two, a little later." Morgan put on his hat and started sullenly for the office, but Haight, assuming his most ingratiating smile, stepped up to Houston, and, in a low tone, began to apologize. Houston interrupted him. "There is no need of any words here," he said coldly, "I shall call on you at the sorting rooms this morning, and shall then have something to say to you, but I wish no words from you, at all," and retiring to his room, he left Haight in a state of considerable trepidation. He hurried after Morgan, and soon overtook him.