“Don't you remember?” “Twins?” said Shotgun, drowsily. “Oh yes, mine. Why--” He opened on us his blue eyes that looked about as innocent as Aqua Marine's, and he grew more awake. Then he blushed deeply, face and forehead. “I was not coming to this kind of thing,” he explained. “But she wanted the twins to get something.” He put his hand on her shoulder and straightened himself. “I done a heap of prospecting before I struck this claim,” said he, patting her shoulder. “We got married last March a year. It's our first--first--first”--he turned to me with a confiding smile--“it's our first dividend, judge.” “Rolfe! I never! You come right down.” “And now let's go get a prize,” he declared, with his confiding pleasantness. “I remember now! I remember! They claimed twins was barred. And I kicked down the bars. Take me to those twins. They're not named yet, judge. After they get the prize we'll name them fine names, as good as any they got anywhere--Europe, Asia, Africa--anywhere. My gracious! I wish they was boys. Come on, judge! You and me'll go give 'em a prize, and then we'll drink to 'em.” He hugged me suddenly and affectionately, and we half fell down the steps. But Gadsden as suddenly caught him and righted him, and we proceeded to the twins. Mrs. Smith looked at me helplessly, saying: “I'm that sorry, sir! I had no idea he was going to be that gamesome.” “Not at all,” I said; “not at all!” Under many circumstances I should have delighted in Shot-gun's society. He seemed so utterly sure that, now he had explained himself, everybody would rejoice to give the remaining-medal to his little girls. But Bosco and Cuba had not been idle. Shotgun did not notice the spread of whispers, nor feel the divided and jealous currents in the air as he sat, and, in expanding good-will, talked himself almost sober. To entice him out there was no way. Several of his friends had tried it. But beneath his innocence there seemed to lurk something wary, and I grew apprehensive about holding the box this last time. But Gadsden relieved me as our count began. “Shot-gun is a splendid man,” said he, “and he has trailed more train-robbers than any deputy in New Mexico. But he has seen too many friends to-day, and is not quite himself. So when he fell down that time I just took this off him.” He opened the drawer, and there lay a six-shooter. “It was touch and go,” said Gadsden; “but he's thinking that hard about his twins that he's not missed it yet. 'Twould have been the act of an enemy to leave that on him to-day.--Well, d'you say!” he broke off. “Well, well, well!” It was the tickets we took out of the box that set him exclaiming. I began to read them, and saw that the agent was no mere politician, but a statesman. His Aqua Marine had a solid vote. I remembered his extreme praise of both Bosco and Cuba. This had set Rincon and Sharon bitterly against each other. I remembered his modesty about Aqua Marine. Of course. Each town, unable to bear the