e-glasses at a beer
advertisement. As he always paid liberally for the glasses, no one
thought of objecting.

"Who's th' bucko?" inquired Silver Jack of a man near the stove.

"That's Roaring Dick Darrell, walkin' boss for M. & D.," replied the
other.

Silver Jack drew his flax-white eyebrows together.

"Roaring Dick, eh? Roaring Dick? Fine name fer a bad man. I s'pose he
thinks he's perticular all hell, don't he?"

"I do'no. Guess he is. He's got th' name fer it."

"Well," said Silver Jack, drawing his powerful back into a bow, "I ain't
much; but I don't like noise--'specially roaring."

With the words he walked directly across the saloon to the foreman.

"My name is Silver Jack," said he, "I come from Muskegon way. I don't
like noise. Quit it."

"All right," replied Dick.

The other was astonished. Then he recovered his swagger and went on:

"They tell me you're the old he-coon of this neck of th' woods. P'r'aps
you _were_. But I'm here now. Ketch on? I'm th' boss of this shebang
now."

Dick smiled amiably. "All right," he repeated.

This second acquiescence nonplussed the newcomer. But he insisted on his
fight.

"You're a bluff!" said he, insultingly.

"Ah! go to hell!" replied Dick with disgust.

"What's that?" shouted the stranger, towering with threatening bulk over
the smaller man.

And then to his surprise Dick Darrell began to beg.

"Don't you hit me!" he cried, "I ain't done nothing to you. You let me
alone! Don't you let him touch me!" he called beseechingly to the
barkeeper. "I don't want to get hurt. Stop it! Let me be!"

Silver Jack took Richard Darrell by the collar and propelled him rapidly
to the door. The foreman hung back like a small boy in the grasp of a
schoolmaster, whining, beseeching, squirming, appealing for help to the
barkeeper and the bystanders. When finally he was energetically kicked
into the gutter, he wept a little with nervous rage.

"Roaring Dick! Rats!" said Silver Jack. "Anybody can do him proper. If
that's your 'knocker,' you're a gang of high bankers."

The other men merely smiled in the manner of those who know.
Incidentally Silver Jack was desperately pounded by Big Dan, later in
the evening, on account of that "high-banker" remark.

Richard Darrell, soon after, went into the woods with his crew, and
began the tremendous struggle against the wilderness. Silver Jack and
Big Dan took up the saloon business at Beeson Lake, and set themselves
to gatherin