on," said the Scotchman
calmly.

"Pull his nose, Jim! Make him fight!" exclaimed the friends of the
bully. "We'll back you!"

The hint was taken. Jim staggered forward, and, seizing the Scotchman's
prominent nose, gave it a violent tweak.

Now there are few men, with or without self-respect, who can calmly
submit to an insult like this. Certainly Mr. Donald Ferguson was not one
of them. The color mantled his high cheek-bones, and anger gained
dominion over him. He sprang to his feet, grasped the bully in his
strong arms, dashed him backward upon the floor of the barroom, and,
turning to the companions of the fallen man, he said, "Now come on, if
you want to fight. I'll take you one by one, and fight the whole of you,
if you like."

Instead of being angry, they applauded his pluck. They cared little for
the fate of their champion, but were impressed by the evident strength
of the stranger.

"Stranger," said one of them, "you've proved that you're a man of honor.
We thought you were a coward. It's a pity you don't drink. What may your
name be?"

"Donald Ferguson."

"Then, boys, here's to the health of Mr. Ferguson. He's a bully boy, and
no coward."

"Gentlemen," said the Scotchman, "it's a compliment you mean, no doubt,
and I'm suitably thankful. If you'll allow me, I'll drink your health in
a liquor which will not injure any one. I'll wish you health and
prosperity in a glass of cold water, if the barkeeper happens to have
any of that beverage handy. Tom, join with me in the toast."

Tom did so, and the speech was well received.

"As for this gentleman," said Mr. Ferguson, addressing Jim, who had
struggled to his feet, and was surveying the scene in rather a
bewildered way, "I hope he won't harbor malice; I've only got even with
him. We may as well forgive and forget."

"That's the talk! Jim, drink the stranger's health!"

Jim looked a little doubtful, but when a glass of whisky was put into
his hand he could not resist the seductive draft, and tossed it down.

"Now shake hands!" said one of the players.

"With all my heart," said Ferguson, and the two shook hands, to the
great delight of the company.

"You got off pretty well, Mr. Ferguson," said Tom, when they retired for
the night.

"Yes, my lad, better than I expected. I thought once I would have to
fight the whole pack. Poor fellows! I pity them. They are but slaves to
their appetites. I hope, my lad, you'll never yield to a like
temptation."