His eyes rested with decided disapproval on the graceful young master of
horses.

"I'll whip that baby-faced Lieutenant," he coolly announced to his
satellites, "if ever he opens his jaw to me--watch me if I don't. What
does he know about work?"

The men reported the threat to the Lieutenant. The next day without a
moment's hesitation, in quiet tones, he gave his first order to the
giant:

"Put that piece of dressed scantling beside the window--"

The man deliberately lifted a rough board and placed it.

"The rough board won't do," said the even voice. "It must he a dressed
scantling."

The soldier threw him an insolent laugh, and stooped to take up a board
exactly like the one he had laid down.

The baby-faced Lieutenant suddenly seized a club, knocked him down, and
beat him until he yelled for quarter.

The soldiers had watched the clash at first with grins and winks and
nudges, betting on their giant. His strength was invincible. When the
unexpected happened, and they saw the slender, plucky youngster standing
over the form of the fallen brave, they raised a lusty shout for him.

When the giant scrambled to his feet, the victor said with a smile: