interrupted. A shot and a yell, from down the road, startled every man in camp. Two, three, five more shots barked in swift succession. Miss Sally Wooster herself was drawn from the house by the fusillade. With Comanche-like whoops, a horseman came dashing madly toward the men, brandishing two huge revolvers as he rode. "Skete, and drunk in the morning," said Tuttle. A moment later the rider scattered the population as he rode his weltering pony through the group. "You lubbers, celebrate!" he yelled, discharging a weapon three times in a second. "There's been a baby born at Red Shirt Canyon! We git in the census! We git on the map! Big Matt Sullivan's wife has got a little boy!" "A boy!" said Sally Wooster. "Oh my!" "Is that all?" inquired John Tuttle, on behalf of his somewhat indignant townsmen. "Red Shirt's thirty-seven miles away. We've got something more exciting than that right here in camp." "Red Shirt's in this same county," protested the horseman, a trifle crestfallen. "I thought you fellers was patriotic." Barney Doon threw out his chest and swaggered forward. "Patriotic?" he echoed. "Doggone us, we're the biggest patriots on the coast! No man is a gentleman who wouldn't be a gentleman on such an occasion as this. Skete, you've saved the life of yonder braggart," and he pointed to Slivers. "I couldn't be a gentleman and slay him when a child's been born in this here county. Slivers, you can go your way, without alarm." "What!" demanded Tuttle. "No fight? All on account of a baby?" "If I ever!" added Sally Wooster. A third disgusted person queried, "What's a baby got to do with a duel, and the kid near forty miles away?" To this one Barney turned with pitying scorn. "You don't know how easy it is to disturb a new-born baby," said he. "There ain't a man but me in camp knows how to behave himself in a holy moment like this here, and I ain't a-goin' to kill no man when a sacred thing like that has went and happened." "Well, durn his slippery hide!" grumbled Tuttle. "He's gittin' too