fident that any frank disclosure of my opinion, being necessarily hurried, might easily be misunderstood. I at length devised a conventional formula of praise which, although feeling a frightful fool, I delivered each time thereafter.
Thus we progressed the length of their commercial centre, the incidents varying but little.
"Hello, Sour-dough, you old shellback! When did you come off the trail?"
"Just got in. My lands! but it's good to be back. Billy, shake hands with my friend Colonel Ruggles."
I mean to say, the persons were not all named "Billy," that being used only by way of illustration. Sometimes they would be called "Doc" or "Hank" or "Al" or "Chris." Nor was my companion invariably called "shellback." "Horned-toad" and "Stinging-lizard" were also epithets much in favour with his friends.
At the end of this street we at length paused before the office, as I saw, of "The Red Gap Recorder; Daily and Weekly." Cousin Egbert entered here, but came out almost at once.
"Henshaw ain't there, and she said I got to be sure and give him this here piece personally; so come on. He's up to a lawn-feet."
"A social function, sir?" I asked.
"No; just a lawn-feet up in Judge Ballard's front yard to raise money for new uniforms for the band—that's what the boy said in there."
"But would it not be highly improper for me to appear there, sir?" I at once objected. "I fear it's not done, sir."
"Shucks!" he insisted, "don't talk foolish that way.
