returned to the Governor's residence he found that celebrated official and Major Culverson in the library. The irrepressible Major was engaged in presenting a lurid and highly dramatic history of how he had straightened the tangled exigencies of the Commonwealth during the absence of his associates, and how, by virtue of his magnificent personality, the entire Southwest, from the borders of lower Utah to the Rio Grande, was now the placid abode of peace and fraternal good-will. He stopped short as the Secretary of State entered, and bowed. Then thrusting his hand into the front of his coat, he exclaimed, with the affected manner of a tenth-rate actor, “Good morrow, good gambler.”
“Top chop,” responded the Honorable Ambercrombie Hergan. “And a favorite.”
“I opine,” continued the Major, “I opine, sir, from your gladsome tone that the fat sharks have been successfully harpooned.”
“Gentlemen,” said the Secretary of State, dropping into a chair by the table, “the reports of this race will announce that Hiram Martin and First Class Crawley 'also ran.'”
