"I wouldn't fool with him, sir; Rover don't like strangers."
The Cowboy snapped his fingers at the dog and called to him:
"Come here, Rover."
The splendid animal walked solemnly to him and, resting his head on his knee, looked up steadily into his face.
"Don't seem to be too savage nor nothin'—pretty decent sort of dog."
"Oh, he is, sir; he is just the sweetest, lovingest dog that ever lived. I had him when he wa'n't no bigger than a coon, and couldn't eat nothin' but milk, and he loves me, don't you, Rover? and I love him, and he's all I've got to love in the world, and they're goin' to kill him. Oh, Rover, Rover, what shall I do? what shall I do?"
"Now, sis, tell us about the row—did the dog begin the trouble?"
"Oh, no, sir; Jake came along this morning and I was settin' here playin' with Rover, and Jake he grabbed me and tried to kiss me, and I put up a holler and Rover bited him in the leg. Jake swore and wanted to kill him, but he didn't darst to, and he didn't have no gun; so he's gone
home to get his gun and he'll be back pretty quick and he's goin' to kill him."