MARTIN RATTLER. 263

voices outside the cottage, which sounded as if in
altercation. In another minute the door burst open,
and a man entered hurriedly, followed by the inter-
preter.

“Your overseer is impertinent!” exclaimed the
man, who was a tall swarthy Brazilian. “I wish to
buy a horse or a good mule, and he won't let me
have one. Jam not a beggar; I offer to pay.”

The man spoke in Portuguese, and Barney replied
in the same language,—

“You can have a horse if you pay for 2.”

The Brazilian replied by throwing a heavy bag of
dollars on the table.

“ All right,” said Barney, turning to his interpreter
and conversing with him in an under-tone. “Give
him what he requires.” So saying he bowed the
Brazilian out of the room, and returned to the
enjoyment of his black pipe, which had been inter-
rupted by the incident.

“That man seems in a hurry,” said Martin.

“So he is. My interpreter tells me that he is
quite like one o’ the blackguards that sometimes go
about the mines doin’ mischief, and he’s in hot haste
to be away. I shouldn’t wonder if the spalpeen
has been stealin’ gould or dimonds and wants to

escape. But of course I’ve nothin’ to do with that,