Wentz told me he was a bad customer." The teamster, his red face bathed in perspiration, and his sleeves rolled up, showing brown, knotty arms, lurched toward them.

As they met he aimed a kick at the dog; but Mose leaped nimbly aside, avoiding the heavy boot.

He did not growl, nor show his teeth; but the great white head sank forward a little, and the lithe body crouched for a spring.
"Don't touch that dog; he'll tear your leg off!" Joe cried sharply.
"Say, pard, cum an' hev' a drink," replied the teamster, with a friendly leer.
"I don't drink," answered Joe, curtly, and moved on.
The teamster growled something of which only the word "parson" was intelligible to the brothers.

Joe stopped and looked back.

His gray eyes seemed to contract; they did not flash, but shaded and lost their warmth.