"Oh--in my whole _life_!" admitted Steve. He drew a dollar from his pocket, balanced it on his thumb, and continued: "We will now invoke the arbitrament of chance to decide the destinies of nations. Heads, I order an assortment of vines and fig trees, go back to the Jornado and become a cattle-king, I proceed to New-York-on-the-Hudson, by the Ess-Pee at 3:15 this A.M. presently, and arouse that somnolent city from its Rip Van Winkle." The coin went spinning to the ceiling. "Tails!" said the Merchant, picking it up. "I must warn my friends on Wall Street, Hello! this is a bad dollar!" "I'll keep it for a souvenir of the joyful occasion," said Steve. "Just one more now, and we'll all go home!" "Hold on, you abandoned profligate!" said the Judge. "You don't know any one in the Big Burgh, do you? Thought not. Without there! Ho, varlet!" He thumped on the table, demanding writing materials. "I'll fix you out. Give you a letter to a firm of mining experts I'm in touch with." After an interval devoted to refreshments, the Judge read with all the pride of authorship: Messrs. Atwood, Strange & Atwood, 25 Broad Street, New York City. _Gentlemen_: This will introduce to you Mr. Stephen Thompson, of Dundee, New Mexico. You will kindly consider yourself _in loco parentis_ to him, charging same to my account. On presentation of this letter, please pay Mr. Thompson's fine or go his bail, as the case may be, furnish him with pocket-money and a ticket home, and see him safely on the right train. Should the matter be more serious, wire me at once. Periodical insanity can be readily proved. He has just recovered from a paroxysm at this writing. He is subject to these attacks whenever his wishes are crossed, having been raised a pet. Therefore, you will be doing yourself a great favor by acceding to any request he may make, however unreasonable it may seem. It is unlucky to oppose or thwart him; but he is amenable to kindness. Kindly apprize municipal and Federal authorities for the preservation of public safety. Your loss is our eternal gain. * * * * * During the ensuing applause he signed this production. Steve pocketed it gravely. "Thank you," he said. "When I get down to husks I'll look up my locoed parent." "The Bird of Time," said the Transient vociferously, "hash but a little way to flutter. Cash in! The bird ish on the wing! Tomorro'sh tangle to the winds reshign. Come, all ye midnight roish-roishterers! A few more kindly cupsh for Auld Lang Shine. Then let ush eshcort thish highwayman to the gatesh of the city and cash him forth to outer darknesh! Let ush shing! _I stood on a flush at midnight_, _When my money was nearly gone_, _And two moonsh rosh over the city_ _Where there shouldn't have been but one_." * * * * *