BAD AND MAD by W. C. Tuttle Author of “Dangling Doom”, etc. “You better put yore hands up, pardner.” The man on his knees at the water hole turned his head slowly and looked at the other man, who was covering him with a rifle. This second man had popped up like a Jack-in-a-box from behind a sandstone boulder. Near the water hole stood a dejected-looking bay horse, head hanging, one hind leg cocked listlessly. The man at the water hole got slowly to his feet, keeping his hands above his waist. He squinted closely at the other man, his eyes puzzled. Then, with momentarily sagging jaw, he uttered an expression of astonishment. “Ben!” he exclaimed. “Well, what won’t yuh see when yuh ain’t got no gun!” It was a sarcastic expression, because the speaker had a heavy gun in the holster at his right thigh. The other man came closer, but did not lower the muzzle of his weapon. The sun glinted from a badge fastened on the lapel of his vest. They were as alike as two peas, these two. Both smooth shaven, slightly grizzled, neither of them carrying an ounce of surplus weight. Even their clothes were pretty much the same. “Well, I’ll be darned!” snorted the man with the rifle. “Harry!” They stood for a while, looking at each other. Then: “Oh, would some power the giftie give us, to see ourselves as others see us,” misquoted the empty-handed man, and then added quickly, “if it would do any good.” “Set down,” said the sheriff, indicating a boulder. “But keep yore hands in sight. I don’t trust you no more than I ever did.” “You allus was a lovin’ brother,” grinned the other. “I’ve heard that twins have queer affections for each other--and it’s right. You might lower that cannon, Ben. I know when I’m stopped.” “You robbed the bank in Oro City, yuh know.” “Thasso? How long have you been in this country, anyway?” “What’s that got to do with robbin’ a bank?” “Nothin’. Must have been here quite a while. They don’t elect a sheriff in this country until they know something about him.” “I’ve been here seven years,” said the sheriff gruffly. “Where have you been?” “Oh, around up in the northwest.” “Stealin’ horses?” “That’s none of yore business; and if yuh wasn’t my twin brother, I wouldn’t be that civil.” “Why didn’t yuh go straight, Harry?” “Aw, don’t start preachin’! Slip the bracelets on me and take me back to yore jail. Heredity’s what ails me, I suppose.” The sheriff smiled grimly. “Heredity! Why didn’t it affect me?” “Don’t pull that holier-than-thou, Bennie.” “Don’t like to hear about yore sins, eh? Well, it shore is funny to have you pullin’ a job in my county. Makes it bad for me, don’tcha know it? I can’t let yuh go, and it’ll shore reflect on me if I take yuh back. Anybody’d know you was my twin brother.” “Yeah, we do look alike. Everybody used to say that I looked more like you than you do yourself. How far are we from Oro City? I shore traveled in a circle.” “It’s only three miles, due south of here.”