"That depends upon two things," I replied. "First, whether—"
"Pshaw! don't bother me with your homilies," he exclaimed, impatiently, as I closed the door and turned the key.
"No, I won't, for you are homely enough in all conscience," I answered, pretending to think that he referred to personal beauty.
The stranger turned on me like lightning, and his sinister eyes were expressive of intense rage, but I pretended not to notice his actions. Rover, however, became slightly alarmed for my welfare, and placed himself between us, and showed his strong teeth with perfect frankness.
"Call off your dog," our visitor said, finding that it was useless to intimidate, "or I will make short work of him, and sell him to the Chinamen as a luxury."
"You would never have another chance to trade with the Celestials," I answered, carelessly.
"Why?" demanded the black ruffian, with a grim smile, as he walked towards that portion of the store where Fred was sitting, Mr. Critchet having entered his room.
"Because, if you harmed my dog, I should take the liberty of shooting you without a moment's delay."
"Well, that is a question that two would have to study over," the stranger answered, in a more subdued tone, and with less inclination to swagger. "I suppose that you little think that I carry these things about me, and that they sometimes bark when I say the word, and more to the purpose than any dog you ever owned." And he tapped the butts of his pistols with a confident air, but the announcement was not such as he had anticipated.
"We sometimes do a little in that line ourselves," I answered, "and we take care that the tools we use shall be the best that money can obtain. When this speaks it means something."