"Yes, he might," said Fred; "or take you on the head--which wouldn't be so pleasant. I'm not particular--but I'd better run my chance myself with a chap that fired low." "There you're out," answered the brother. "The low shot's the death-shot. Why man, if you did catch a ball in the head, you'd get over it--if it was in the mouth, or cheek, or neck, or anywhere but the temple; but your body's all over tender bits. May heaven always keep lead out of my bowels--I'd sooner have it in my brains." The father fidgetted about very uneasily whilst enduring these pleasant remarks from his affectionate children, which, it is needless to say, they made for his particular comfort and amusement at the present moment. At last he lost his temper, and exclaimed-- "D---- your brains, you fool--I don't believe you've got any! what's the use of the two of you going on that way--you that were never out in your life. I tell you when a man's standing to be fired at, he doesn't know, nine times in ten, whether he fires high or low. Who'll I get to go out with me?" "Yes, and take your message," said Fred; "you've a deal to do yet before you're snug home again." "Well, who'll I get to go to him?" "Why wouldn't I do?" suggested George. George, at any rate, had the merit of being a good son. "Nonsense," said Fred; "if the governor got shot you'd be considered a brute if you were cool; and a man should be cool then." "Cool," said George; "I'd be as cool as a cucumber." "Nonsense," said the father; "of course I couldn't go out with my own son; there's Theobald French; I went out with his cousin just after Waterloo." "He can't show--he's on his keeping. He'd be nabbed before he was on the ground." "Then I'll have Larkin; I've known him since I was a boy." "Larkin's too old for that game now; he'd be letting them have Webb up with his back to the sun." "Murphy, of Mullough; he's used to these things--I'll send over to him." "Murphy's up to snuff; but since the affair of the bill he forged Dan Connolly's name to, he's queerly thought of. It wouldn't do at all, governor, to send anyone that Webb's friend could refuse to meet." "I'll tell you, father, who'd be proud of the job--and he's quite a gentleman now, since he got an estate of his own--and that's Cynthy Keegan. It'd be great fun to see him stepping the ground, and he only with one foot." "By heavens, George, you're a born fool; must you have your d----d joke, when I'm talking so seriously?" "Upon my soul, then, if it were myself, I'd send for Keegan. He'd think the compliment so great, he wouldn't refuse, and it'd be such a joke to see him on the ground with his crutches. But if you don't like the attorney, send to Fitzpatrick." "He's so young," said the father; "he'd do very well for either of you; but I'd want some one steadier." "Besides," said Fred, "Webb and Fitz are bosom friends. I wouldn't wonder if Fitz were Webb's friend himself."