"You know me for good man, eh? An' you know I ain' try for bre'k up oder fellers' biznesse, never! Wal, I'm come to you now lak' wan good man to 'noder biccause I'm got bad trouble on de min', an' you mus'n't get sore."
"There's no danger, Poleon. Let's have it. If there is anything I can do, you may count on me."
"Wal," he began, nervously, clearing his throat, "it's lak' dis. Dere's feller been talk some 'bout Necia, an' it ain' nice talk neider."
"Who is he?" exclaimed the soldier, in a tone that made the girl's heart leap.
"Wait! Lemme tol' you w'at he say, den we'll talk 'bout feex 'im plaintee. He say dere's joke down on Stark's saloon dat Necia Gale is mak' fool of herse'f on you, an' dat you ain' care for marry her."
"Runnion!" cried Burrell, and started for the door. "I'll settle with him now for fair!" But Poleon blocked his way, and, observing him gravely, continued, in a tone that the other could not disregard nor mistake:
"No, M'sieu', before you pass on dat place you'll tol' me if it's true."
"True!" the Lieutenant retorted, angrily. "What business is it of yours? This concerns me."
"An' me, too! I'm w'at you call gardeen for Necia till John Gale come back, an' I'm broder of her, too. You promis' jus' now you don' get mad, an' I don' say she's Runnion neider w'at spik dose t'ing; dere's more dan 'im been talkin'. Is it true?"
His sternness offended Burrell, for the soldier was not the kind to discuss his affairs in this way, therefore he drew back scowling.