"'Whatever is his name, then?' I asks.

"'Antonio Marino,' says the Eytalian.

"'Merino?' says Dave; 'that's right. I recalls it, 'cause it makes
me think at the jump he's a sheep man, an' I gets plumb hostile.'

"'I never sees you,' says the Eytalian.

"'Yes you do,' says Dave; 'you jest think you didn't see me. We
drinks together, an' goes out an' shoots up the camp, arm an' arm.'

"But the Eytalian insists he never meets Dave. This makes Dave ugly
a lot, an' before I gets to butt in an' stop it, he outs with his
six-shooter, an' puts a hole into the music-box.'

"'These yere tunes I hears so far,' says Dave, 'is too frivolous; I
figgers that oughter sober 'em down a whole lot.'

"When Dave shoots, the Eytalian party heaves the strap of his hewgag
over his head, an' flies. Dave grabs the music-box, keepin' it from
fallin', an' then begins turnin' the crank to try it. It plays all
right, only every now an' then thar's a hole into the melody like
it's lost a tooth.

"'This yere's good enough for a dog!' says Dave, a-twistin' away on
the handle. 'Where's this yere Merino? Whatever is the matter with
that shorthorn? Why don't he stand his hand?'