I looked at the beautiful

"In Colorado, I see," said I. "And, by the way, Jeff, what was the name of the little man who went to Denver—the one you and Bill met at the station?" "Alfred E. Ricks," said Jeff, "was the toad's designation." "I see," said I, "the president of this mining company signs himself A. L. Fredericks. I was wondering—" "Let me see that stock," said Jeff quickly, almost snatching it from me. To mitigate, even though slightly, the embarrassment I summoned the waiter and ordered another bottle of the Barbera. I thought it was the least I could do. A TEMPERED WIND The first time my optical nerves was disturbed by the sight of Buckingham Skinner was in Kansas City. I was standing on a corner when I see Buck stick his straw-colored head out of a third-story window of a business block and holler, "Whoa, there! Whoa!" like you would in endeavoring to assuage a team of runaway mules.