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.

"I say," he began, "we've got that new fellow stirred up, and I wish
we hadn't; I don't want any trouble."

"Hang you, you little, sneaking coward!" answered Morgan, "if you
didn't want trouble, why didn't you hold your tongue? Whatever fuss
there is you've kicked up yourself, with your own smartness, so what
are you whining about?"

"Oh, well, you know my principles, Morgan; I never want quarrels with
a