Little Muggy edged his way through the crowd, threw away his quid of
tobacco, took the baby from Buffle, and kissed it a dozen times.

"I'm goin' home, fellers," said Muggy, finally. "I'm wanted by the
lawyers for cuttin' a man that sassed me while I was shoe-makin'. But
I'm a-goin' to see my young uns, even if all creation wants me."

"An' I'm a-goin', too," said Buffle. "I'm wanted pretty bad by some
that's East, but I reckon I'm well enough hid by the bar that's grow'd
sence I wuz a boy, an' dug out from old Varmont. I've had a new taste uv
decency lately, an' I'm goin' to see ef I can't stan' it for a stiddy
diet. The chap over to the shanty sez he ken git me somethin' to do, an'
ennythin's better'n gamblin', drinkin', and fightin'.

"It's agin the law to kerry shootin'-irons there, Buffle," suggested
one.

"Yes, an' they got a new kind uv a law there, to keep a man from takin'
his bitters," said another.

"Yes," said Buffle, "all that's mighty tough, but ef a feller's bound
fur bed-rock, he might ez well git that all uv a sudden, ef he ken."

Buffle started toward the door, stopped as if he had something else to
say, started again, hesitated, feigned indignation at the baby, flushed
the least bit, opened the door, partly closed it again, squeezed himself
out and displaying only the tip of his nose, roared:

"This baby's name is Allan Buffle Berryn--Allen _Buffle_ Berryn!" and
then rushed at full speed to leave the baby at home, while the boys