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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16608-8.txt b/16608-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f86e51f --- /dev/null +++ b/16608-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5959 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bruvver Jim's Baby, by Philip Verrill Mighels + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Bruvver Jim's Baby + +Author: Philip Verrill Mighels + +Release Date: August 27, 2005 [EBook #16608] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRUVVER JIM'S BABY *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +BRUVVER JIM'S BABY + +BY + +PHILIP VERRILL MIGHELS + + + + + + +NEW YORK AND LONDON + +HARPER & BROTHERS + +PUBLISHERS MCMIV + + + + +Copyright, 1904, by HARPER & BROTHERS. + + +_All rights reserved._ + +Published May, 1904. + + + + +This Volume is + +Dedicated, with much affection, to + +My Mother + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. A MIGHTY LITTLE HUNTER + II. JIM MAKES DISCOVERIES + III. THE WAY TO MAKE A DOLL + IV. PLANNING A NEW CELEBRATION + V. VISITORS AT THE CABIN + VI. THE BELL FOR CHURCH + VII. THE SUNDAY HAPPENINGS + VIII. OLD JIM DISTRAUGHT + IX. THE GUILTY MISS DOC + X. PREPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS + XI. TROUBLES AND DISCOVERIES + XII. THE MAKING OF A CHRISTMAS-TREE + XIII. THEIR CHRISTMAS-DAY + XIV. "IF ONLY I HAD THE RESOLUTION" + XV. THE GOLD IN BOREALIS + XVI. ARRIVALS IN CAMP + XVII. SKEEZUCKS GETS A NAME + XVIII. WHEN THE PARSON DEPARTED + XIX. OLD JIM'S RESOLUTION + XX. IN THE TOILS OF THE BLIZZARD + XXI. A BED IN THE SNOW + XXII. CLEANING THEIR SLATE + XXIII. A DAY OF JOY + + + + +BRUVVER JIM'S BABY + + +CHAPTER I + +A MIGHTY LITTLE HUNTER + +It all commenced that bright November day of the Indian rabbit drive +and hunt. The motley army of the Piute tribe was sweeping tremendously +across a sage-brush valley of Nevada, their force two hundred braves in +number. They marched abreast, some thirty yards apart, and formed a +line that was more than two miles long. + +The spectacle presented was wonderful to see. Red, yellow, and indigo +in their blankets and trappings, the hunters dotted out a line of color +as far as sight could reach. Through the knee-high brush they swept +ahead like a firing-line of battle, their guns incessantly booming, +their advance never halted, their purpose as grim and inexorable as +fate itself. Indeed, Death, the Reaper, multiplied two-hundred-fold +and mowing a swath of incredible proportions, could scarcely have +pillaged the land of its conies more thoroughly. + +Before the on-press of the two-mile wall of red men with their smoking +weapons, the panic-stricken rabbits scurried helplessly. Soon or late +they must double back to their burrows, soon or late they must +therefore die. + +Behind the army, fully twenty Indian ponies, ridden by the +youngster-braves of the cavalcade, were bearing great white burdens of +the slaughtered hares. + +The glint of gun-barrels, shining in the sun, flung back the light, +from end to end of the undulating column. Billows of smoke, +out-puffing unexpectedly, anywhere and everywhere along the line, +marked down the tragedies where desperate bunnies, scudding from cover +and racing up or down before the red men, were targets for fiercely +biting hail of lead from two or three or more of the guns at once. + +And nearly as frightened as the helpless creatures of the brush was a +tiny little pony-rider, back of the army, mounted on a plodding horse +that was all but hidden by its load of furry game. He was riding +double, this odd little bit of a youngster, with a sturdy Indian boy +who was on in front. That such a timid little dot of manhood should +have been permitted to join the hunt was a wonder. He was apparently +not more than three years old at the most. With funny little trousers +that reached to his heels, with big brown eyes all eloquent of doubt, +and with round, little, copper-colored cheeks, impinged upon by an old +fur cap he wore, pulled down over forehead and ears, he appeared about +as quaint a little man as one could readily discover. + +But he seemed distressed. And how he did hang on! The rabbits secured +upon the pony were crowding him backward most alarmingly. At first he +had clung to the back of his fellow-rider's shirt with all the might +and main of his tiny hands. As the burden of the rabbits had +increased, however, the Indian hunters had piled them in between the +timid little scamp and his sturdier companion, till now he was almost +out on the horse's tail. His alarm had, therefore, become +overwhelming. No fondness for the nice warm fur of the bunnies, no +faith in the larger boy in front, could suffice to drive from his tiny +face the look of woe unutterable, expressed by his eyes and his +trembling little mouth. + +The Indians, marching steadily onward, had come to the mountain that +bounded the plain. Already a score were across the road that led to +the mining-camp of Borealis, and were swarming up the sandy slope to +complete the mighty swing of the army, deploying anew to sweep far +westward through the farther half of the valley, and so at length +backward whence they came. + +The tiny chap of a game-bearer, gripping the long, velvet ears of one +of the jack-rabbits tied to his horse, felt a horrid new sensation of +sliding backward when the pony began to follow the hunters up the hill. +Not only did the animal's rump seem to sink beneath him as they took +the slope, but perspiration had made it amazingly smooth and insecure. + +The big fat rabbits rolled against the desperate little man in a +ponderous heap. The feet of one fell plump in his face, and seemed to +kick, with the motion of the horse. Then a buckskin thong abruptly +snapped in twain, somewhere deep in the bundle, and instantly the ears +to which the tiny man was clinging, together with the head and body of +that particular rabbit, and those of several others as well, parted +company with the pony. Gracefully they slid across the tail of the +much-relieved creature, and, pushing the tiny rider from his seat, they +landed with him plump upon the earth, and were left behind. + +Unhurt, but nearly buried by the four or five rabbits thus pulled from +the load by his sudden descent from his perch, the dazed little fellow +sat up in the sand and solemnly noted the rapid departure of the Indian +army--pony, companion, and all. + +Not only had his fall been unobserved by the marching braves, but the +boy with whom he had just been riding was blissfully unaware of the +fact that something behind had dismounted. The whole vast line of +Piute braves pressed swiftly on. The shots boomed and clattered, as +the hill-sides were startled by the echoes. Red, yellow, indigo--the +blankets and trappings were momentarily growing less and less distinct. + +More distant became the firing. Onward, ever onward, swung the great, +long column of the hunters. Dully, then even faintly, came the noise +of the guns. + +At last the firing could be heard no more. The two hundred warriors, +the ponies, the boys that rode--all were gone. Even the rabbits, that +an hour before had scampered here and there in the brush with their +furry feet, would never again go pattering through the sand. The sun +shone warmly down. The great world of valley and mountains, gray, +severe, unpeopled, was profoundly still, in that wonderful way of the +dying year, when even the crickets and locusts have ceased to sing. + +Clinging in silence to the long, soft ears of his motionless bunny, the +timid little game-bearer sat there alone, big-eyed and dumb with wonder +and childish alarm. He could see not far, unless it might be up the +hill, for the sage-brush grew above his head and circumscribed his +view. Miles and miles away, however, the mountains, in majesty of rock +and snow, were sharply lifting upward into blue so deep and cloudless +that its intimate proximity to the infinite was impressively manifest. +The day was sweet of the ripeness of the year, and virginal as all that +mighty land itself. + +With two of the rabbits across his lap, the tiny hunter made no effort +to rise. It was certainly secure to be sitting here in the sand, for +at least a fellow could fall no farther, and the good, big mountain was +not so impetuous or nervous as the pony. + +An hour went by and the mere little mite of a man had scarcely moved. +The sun was slanting towards the southwest corner of the universe. A +flock of geese, in a great changing V, flew slowly over the valley, +their wings beating gold from the sunlight, their honk! honk! honk! the +note of the end of the year. + +How soon they were gone! Then indeed all the earth was abandoned to +the quiet little youngster and his still more quiet company of rabbits. +There was no particular reason for moving. Where should he go, and how +could he go, did he wish to leave? To carry his bunny would be quite +beyond his strength; to leave him here would be equally beyond his +courage. + +But the sun was edging swiftly towards its hiding place; the frost of +the mountain air was quietly sharpening its teeth. Already the long, +gray shadow of the sage-brush fell like a cooling film across the +little fellow's form and face. + +Homeless, unmissed, and deserted, the tiny man could do nothing but sit +there and wait. The day would go, the twilight come, and the night +descend--the night with its darkness, its whispered mysteries, its +wailing coyotes, cruising in solitary melancholy hither and thither in +their search for food. + +But the sun was still wheeling, like a brazen disk, on the rim of the +hills, when something occurred. A tall, lanky man, something over +forty years of age, as thin as a hammer and dusty as the road itself--a +man with a beard and a long, gray, drooping mustache, and with drooping +clothes--a man selected by shiftlessness to be its sign and mark--a +miner in boots and overalls and great slouch hat--came tramping down a +trail of the mountain. He was holding in his dusty arms a yellowish +pup, that squirmed and wriggled and tried to lap his face, and +comported himself in pup-wise antics, till his master was presently +obliged to put him down in self-defence. + +The pup knew his duty, as to racing about, bumping into bushes, +snorting in places where game might abide, and thumping everything he +touched with his super-active tail. Almost immediately he scented +mysteries in plenty, for Indian ponies and hunters had left a fine, +large assortment of trails in the sand, that no wise pup could consent +to ignore. + +With yelps of gladness and appreciation, the pup went awkwardly +knocking through the brush, and presently halted--bracing abruptly with +his clumsy paws--amazed and confounded by the sight of a frightened +little red-man, sitting with his rabbits in the sand. + +For a second the dog was voiceless. Then he let out a bark that made +things jump, especially the tiny man and himself. + +"Here, come here, Tintoretto," drawlingly called the man from the +trail. "Come back here, you young tenderfoot." + +But Tintoretto answered that he wouldn't. He also said, in the +language of puppy barks, that important discoveries demanded not only +his but his master's attention where he was, forthwith. + +There was nothing else for it; the mountain was obliged to come to +Mohammed--or the man to the pup. Then the miner, no less than +Tintoretto, was astonished. + +To ward off the barking, the red little hunter had raised his arm +across his face, but his big brown eyes were visible above his hand, +and their childish seriousness appealed to the man at once. + +"Well, cut my diamonds if it ain't a kid!" drawled he. "Injun +pappoose, or I'm an elk! Young feller, where'd you come from, hey? +What in mischief do you think you're doin' here?" + +The tiny "Injun" made no reply. Tintoretto tried some puppy addresses. +He gave a little growl of friendship, and, clambering over rabbits and +all, began to lick the helpless child on the face and hands with +unmistakable cordiality. One of the rabbits fell and rolled over. +Tintoretto bounded backward in consternation, only to gather his +courage almost instantly upon him and bark with lusty defiance. + +"Shut up, you anermated disturbance," commanded his owner, mildly. +"You're enough to scare the hair off an elephant," and, squatting in +front of the wondering child, he looked at him pleasantly. "What you +up to, young feller, sittin' here by yourself?" he inquired. "Scared? +Needn't be scared of brother Jim, I reckon. Say, you 'ain't been left +here for good? I saw the gang of Injuns, clean across the country, +from up on the ridge. It must be the last of their drives. That it? +And you got left?" + +The little chap looked up at him seriously and winked his big, brown +eyes, but he shut his tiny mouth perhaps a trifle tighter than before. +As a matter of fact, the miner expected some such stoical silence. + +The pup, for his part, was making advances of friendship towards the +motionless rabbits. + +"Wal, say, Piute," added Jim, after scanning the country with his +kindly eyes, "I reckon you'd better go home with me to Borealis. The +Injuns wouldn't look to find you now, and you can't go on settin' here +a waitin' for pudding and gravy to pass up the road for dinner. What +do you say? Want to come with me and ride on the outside seat to +Borealis?" + +Considerably to the man's amazement the youngster nodded a timid +affirmative. + +"By honky, Tintoretto, I'll bet he savvies English as well as you," +said Jim. "All right, Borealis or bust! I reckon a man who travels +twenty miles to git him a pup, and comes back home with you and this +here young Piute, is as good as elected to office. Injun, what's your +name?" + +The tiny man apparently had nothing to impart by way of an answer. + +"'Ain't got any, maybe," commented Jim. "What's the matter with me +namin' you, hey? Suppose I call you Aborigineezer? All in favor, ay! +Contrary minded? Carried unanimously and the motion prevails." + +The child, for some unaccountable reason, seemed appalled. + +"We can't freight all them rabbits," decided the miner. "And, +Tintoretto, you are way-billed to do some walkin'." + +He took up the child, who continued to cling to the ears of his one +particular hare. As all the jacks were tied together, all were lifted +and were dangling down against the miner's legs. + +"Huh! you can tell what some people want by the way they hang right +on," said Jim. "Wal, no harm in lettin' you stick to one. We can eat +him for dinner to-morrow, I guess, and save his hide in the bargain." + +He therefore cut the buckskin thong and all but one of the rabbits fell +to the earth, on top of Tintoretto, who thought he was climbed upon by +half a dozen bears. He let out a yowp that scared himself half into +fits, and, scooting from under the danger, turned about and flung a +fearful challenge of barking at the prostrate enemy. + +"Come on, unlettered ignoramus," said his master, and, holding the +wondering little foundling on his arm, with his rabbit still clutched +by the ears, he proceeded down to the roadway, scored like a narrow +gray streak through the brush, and plodded onward towards the +mining-camp of Borealis. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +JIM MAKES DISCOVERIES + +It was dark and there were five miles of boot-tracks and seven miles of +pup-tracks left in the sand of the road when Jim, Tintoretto, and +Aborigineezer came at length to a point above the small constellation +of lights that marked the spot where threescore of men had builded a +town. + +From the top of the ridge they had climbed, the man and the pup alone +looked down on the camp, for the weary little "Injun" had fallen +asleep. Had he been awake, the all to be seen would have been of +little promise. Great, sombre mountains towered darkly up on every +side, roofed over by an arch of sky amazingly brilliant with stars. +Below, the darkness was the denser for the depth of the hollow in the +hills. Vaguely the one straight street of Borealis was indicated by +the lamps, like a thin Milky Way in a meagre universe of lesser lights, +dimly glowing and sparsely scattered on the rock-strewn acclivities. + +From down there came the sounds of life. Half-muffled music, raucous +singing, blows of a hammer, yelpings of a dog, hissing of steam +escaping somewhere from a boiler--all these and many other disturbances +of the night furnished a microcosmic medley of the toiling, playing, +hoping, and fearing, where men abide, creating that frailest and yet +most enduring of frailties--a human community. + +The sight of his town could furnish no novelties to the miner on top of +the final rise, and feeling somewhat tired by the weight of his small +companion, as well as hungry from his walking, old Jim skirted the +rocky slope as best he might, and so came at length to an isolated +cabin. + +This dark little house was built in the brush, quite up on the hill +above the town, and not far away from a shallow ravine where a trickle +of water from a spring had encouraged a straggling growth of willows, +alders, and scrub. Some four or five acres of hill-side about the +place constituted the "Babylonian Glory" mining-claim, which Jim +accounted his, and which had seen about as much of his labor as might +be developed by digging for gold in a barrel. + +"Nobody home," said the owner to his dog, as he came to the door and +shouldered it open. "Wal, all the more for us." + +That any one might have been at home in the place was accounted for +simply by the fact that certain worthies, playing in and out of luck, +as the wheel of fate might turn them down or up, sometimes lived with +Jim for a month at a time, and sometimes left him in solitude for +weeks. One such transient partner he had left at the cabin when he +started off to get the pup now tagging at his heels. This +house-partner, having departed, might and might not return, either now, +a week from now, or ever. + +The miner felt his way across the one big room which the shack +afforded, and came to a series of bunks, built like a pantry against +the wall. Into one of these he rolled his tiny foundling, after which +he lighted a candle that stood in a bottle, and revealed the smoky +interior of the place. + +Three more of the bunks were built in the eastern end of the room; a +fireplace occupied a portion of the wall against the hill; a table +stood in the centre of the floor, and a number of mining tools littered +a corner. Cooking utensils were strewn on the table liberally, while +others hung against the wall or depended from hooks in the chimney. +This was practically all there was, but the place was home. + +Tintoretto, beholding his master preparing a fire to heat up some food, +delved at once into everything and every place where a wet little nose +could be thrust. Having snorted in the dusty corners, he trotted to +the bench whereon the water-bucket stood, and, standing on his hind +legs, gratefully lapped up a drink from the pail. His thirst appeased, +he clambered ambitiously into one of the bunks, discovered a nice pair +of boots, and, dragging one out on the floor, proceeded to carry it +under the table and to chew it as heartily as possible. + +There was presently savory smoke, sufficient for an army, in the place, +while sounds of things sizzling made music for the hungry. The miner +laid bare a section of the table, which he set with cups, plates, and +iron tools for eating. He then dished up two huge supplies of steaming +beans and bacon, two monster cups of coffee, black as tar, and cut a +giant pile of dun-colored bread. + +"Aborigineezer," he said, "the banquet waits." + +Thereupon he fetched his weary little guest to the board and attempted +to seat him on a stool. The tiny man tried to open his eyes, but the +effort failed. Had he been awake and sitting erect on the seat +provided for his use, his head could hardly have come to the level of +the supper. + +"Can't you come to, long enough to eat?" inquired the much-concerned +miner. "No? Wal, that's too bad. Couldn't drink the coffee or go the +beans? H'm, I guess I can't take you down to show you off to the boys +to-night. You'll have to git to your downy couch." He returned the +slumbering child to the bunk, where he tucked him into the blankets. + +Tintoretto did ample justice to the meal, however, and filled in so +thoroughly that his round little pod of a stomach was a burden to +carry. He therefore dropped himself down on the floor, breathed out a +sigh of contentment, and shut his two bright eyes. + +Old Jim concluded a feast that made those steaming heaps of food +diminish to the point of vanishing. He sat there afterwards, leaning +his grizzled head upon his hand and looking towards the bunk where the +tiny little chap he had found was peacefully sleeping. The fire burned +low in the chimney; the candle sank down in its socket. On the floor +the pup was twitching in his dreams. Outside the peace, too vast to be +ruffled by puny man, had settled on all that tremendous expanse of +mountains. + +When his candle was about to expire the miner deliberately prepared +himself for bed, and crawled in the bunk with his tiny guest, where he +slept like the pup and the child, so soundly that nothing could suffice +to disturb his dreams. + +The arrows of the sun itself, flung from the ridge of the opposite +hills, alone dispelled the slumbers in the cabin. + +The hardy old Jim arose from his blankets, and presently flung the door +wide open. + +"Come in," he said to the day. "Come in." + +The pup awoke, and, running out, barked in a crazy way of gladness. +His master washed his face and hands at a basin just outside the door, +and soon had breakfast piping hot. By then it was time to look to +Aborigineezer. To Jim's delight the little man was wide awake and +looking at him gravely from the blankets, his funny old cap still in +place on his head, pulled down over his ears. + +"Time to wash for breakfast," announced the miner. "But I don't +guarantee the washin' will be the kind that mother used to give," and +taking his tiny foundling in his arms he carried him out to the basin +by the door. + +For a moment he looked in doubt at the only apology for a wash-rag the +shanty afforded. + +"Wal, it's an awful dirty cloth that you can't put a little more +blackness on, I reckon," he drawled, and dipping it into the water he +rubbed it vigorously across the gasping little fellow's face. + +Then, indeed, the man was astounded. A wide streak, white as milk, had +appeared on the baby countenance. + +"Pierce my pearls!" exclaimed the miner, "if ever I saw a rag in my +shack before that would leave a white mark on anything! Say!" And he +took off the youngster's old fur cap. + +He was speechless for a moment, for the little fellow's hair was as +brown as a nut. + +"I snum!" said Jim, wiping the wondering little face in a sort of fever +of discovery and taking off color at every daub with the rag. "White +kid--painted! Ain't an Injun by a thousand miles!" + +And this was the truth. A timid little paleface, fair as dawn itself, +but smeared with color that was coming away in blotches, emerged from +the process of washing and gazed with his big, brown eyes at his +foster-parent, in a way that made the miner weak with surprise. Such a +pretty and wistful little armful of a boy he was certain had never been +seen before in all the world. + +"I snum! I certainly snum!" he said again. "I'll have to take you +right straight down to the boys!" + +At this the little fellow looked at him appealingly. His lip began to +tremble. + +"No-body--wants--me," he said, in baby accents, +"no-body--wants--me--anywhere." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE WAY TO MAKE A DOLL + +For a moment after the quaint little pilgrim had spoken, the miner +stared at him almost in awe. Had a gold nugget dropped at his feet +from the sky his amazement could scarcely have been greater. + +"What's that?" he said. "Nobody wants you, little boy? What's the +matter with me and the pup?" And taking the tiny chap up in his arms +he sat in the doorway and held him snugly to his rough, old heart and +rocked back and forth, in a tumult of feeling that nothing could +express. + +"Little pard," he said, "you bet me and Tintoretto want you, right +here." + +For his part, Tintoretto thumped the house and the step and the miner's +shins with the clumsy tail that was wagging his whole puppy body. Then +he clambered up and pushed his awkward paws in the little youngster's +face, and licked his ear and otherwise overwhelmed him with attentions, +till his master pushed him off. At this he growled and began to chew +the big, rough hand that suppressed his demonstrations. + +In lieu of the ears of the rabbit to which he had clung throughout the +night, the silent little man on the miner's knee was holding now to +Jim's enormous fist, which he found conveniently supplied. He said +nothing more, and for quite a time old Jim was content to watch his +baby face. + +"A white little kid--that nobody wants--but me and Tintoretto," he +mused, aloud, but to himself. "Where did you come from, pardner, +anyhow?" + +The tiny foundling made no reply. He simply looked at the thin, kindly +face of his big protector in his quaint, baby way, but kept his solemn +little mouth peculiarly closed. + +The miner tried a score of questions, tenderly, coaxingly, but never a +thing save that confident clinging to his hand and a nod or a shake of +the head resulted. + +By some means, quite his own, the man appeared to realize that the +grave little fellow had never prattled as children usually do, and that +what he had said had been spoken with difficulties, only overcome by +stress of emotion. The mystery of whence a bit of a boy so tiny could +have come, and who he was, especially after his baby statement that +nobody wanted him, anywhere, remained unbroken, after all the miner's +queries. Jim was at length obliged to give it up. + +"Do you like that little dog?" he said, as Tintoretto renewed his +overtures of companionship. "Do you like old brother Jim and the pup?" + +Solemnly the little pilgrim nodded. + +"Want some breakfast, all pretty, in our own little house?" + +Once more the quaint and grave little nod was forthcoming. + +"All right. We'll have it bustin' hot in the shake of a crockery +animal's tail," announced the miner. + +He carried the mite of a man inside and placed him again in the bunk, +where the little fellow found his rabbit and drew it into his arms. + +The banquet proved to be a repetition of the supper of the night +before, except that two great flapjacks were added to the menu, greased +with fat from the bacon and sprinkled a half-inch thick with soft brown +sugar. + +When the cook fetched his hungry little guest to the board the rabbit +came as well. + +"You ought to have a dolly," decided Jim, with a knowing nod. "If only +I had the ingenuity I could make one, sure," and throughout the meal he +was planning the manufacture of something that should beat the whole +wide world for cleverness. + +The result of his cogitation was that he took no time for washing the +dishes after breakfast, but went to work at once to make a doll. The +initial step was to take the hide from the rabbit. Sadly but +unresistingly the little pilgrim resigned his pet, and never expected +again to possess the comfort of its fur against his face. + +With the skin presently rolled up in a nice light form, however, the +miner was back in the cabin, looking for something of which to fashion +a body and head for the lady-to-be. There seemed to be nothing handy, +till he thought of a peeled potato for the lady's head and a big metal +powder-flask to supply the body. + +Unfortunately, as potatoes were costly, the only tuber they had in the +house was a weazened old thing that parted with its wrinkled skin +reluctantly and was not very white when partially peeled. However, Jim +pared off enough of its surface on which to make a countenance, and +left the darker hide above to form the dolly's hair. He bored two +eyes, a nose, and a mouth in the toughened substance, and blackened +them vividly with soot from the chimney. After this he bored a larger +hole, beneath the chin, and pushed the head thus created upon the metal +spout of the flask, where it certainly stuck with firmness. + +With a bit of cord the skin of the rabbit was now secured about the +neck and body of the lady's form, and her beauty was complete. That +certain particles of powder rattled lightly about in her graceful +interior only served to render her manners more animated and her person +more like good, lively company, for Jim so decided himself. + +"There you are. That's the prettiest dolly you ever saw anywhere," +said he, as he handed it over to the willing little chap. "And she all +belongs to you." + +The mite of a boy took her hungrily to his arms, and Jim was peculiarly +affected. + +"Do you want to give her a name?" he said. + +Slowly the quaint little pilgrim shook his head. + +"Have you got a name?" the miner inquired, as he had a dozen times +before. + +This time a timid nod was forthcoming. + +"Oh," said Jim, in suppressed delight. "What is your nice little name?" + +For a moment coyness overtook the tiny man. Then he faintly replied, +"Nu-thans." + +"Nuisance?" repeated the miner, and again he saw the timid little nod. + +"But that ain't a name," said Jim. "Is 'Nuisance' all the name the +baby's got?" + +His bit of a guest seemed to think very hard, but at last he nodded as +before. + +"Well, string my pearls," said the miner to himself, "if somebody +'ain't been mean and low!" He added, cheerfully, "Wal, it's easier to +live down a poor name than it is to live up to a fine one, any day, but +we'll name you somethin' else, I reckon, right away. And ain't that +dolly nice?" + +The two were in the midst of appreciating the charms of her ladyship +when the cabin door was abruptly opened and in came a coatless, fat, +little, red-headed man, puffing like a bellows and pulling down his +shirtsleeves with a great expenditure of energy, only to have them +immediately crawl back to his elbows. + +"Hullo, Keno," drawled the lanky Jim. "I thought you was mad and gone +away and died." + +"Me? Not me!" puffed the visitor. + +"What's that?" and he nodded himself nearly off his balance towards the +tiny guest he saw upon a stool. + +With a somewhat belated bark, Tintoretto suddenly came out from his +boot-chewing contest underneath the table and gave the new-comer an +apoplectic start. + +"Hey!" he cried. "Hey! By jinks! a whole menajry!" + +"That's the pup," said Jim. "And, Keno, here's a poor little skeezucks +that I found a-sittin' in the brush, 'way over to Coyote Valley. I +fetched him home last night, and I was just about to take him down to +camp and show him to the boys." + +"By jinks!" said Keno. "Alive!" + +"Alive and smart as mustard," said the suddenly proud possessor of a +genuine surprise. "You bet he's smart! I've often noticed how there +never yet was any other kind of a baby. That's one consolation left to +every fool man livin'--he was once the smartest baby in the world," + +"Alive!" repeated Keno, as before. "I'm goin' right down and tell the +camp!" + +He bolted out at the door like a shot, and ran down the hill to +Borealis with all his might. + +Aware that the news would be spread like a sprinkle of rain, the lanky +Jim put on his hat with a certain jaunty air of importance, and taking +the grave little man on his arm, with the new-made doll and the pup for +company, he followed, where Keno had just disappeared from view, down +the slope. + +A moment later the town was in sight, and groups of flannel-shirted, +dusty-booted, slouchily attired citizens were discernible coming out of +buildings everywhere. + +Running up the hill again, puffing with added explosiveness, Keno could +hardly contain his excitement. + +"I've told em!" he panted. "They know he's alive and smart as mustard!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +PLANNING A NEW CELEBRATION + +The cream, as it were, of the population of the mining-camp were ready +to receive the group from up on the hill. There were nearly twenty men +in the delegation, representing every shade of inelegance. Indeed, +they demonstrated beyond all argument that the ways of looking rough +and unkempt are infinite. There were tall and short who were rough, +bearded and shaved who were rougher, and washed and unwashed who were +roughest. And there were still many denizens of Borealis not then on +exhibition. + +Webber, the blacksmith; Lufkins, the teamster; Bone, the "barkeep"; +Dunn, the carpenter, and Field, who had first discovered precious ore +at Borealis, and sold out his claims for a gold watch and chain--which +subsequently proved to be brass--all these and many another shining +light of the camp could be counted in the modest assemblage gathered +together to have a look at the "kid" just reported by Keno. + +Surprise had been laid on double, in the town, by the news of what had +occurred. In the first place, it was almost incredible that old +"If-only" Jim had actually made his long-threatened pilgrimage to fetch +his promised pup, but to have him back here, not only with the dog in +question, but also with a tiny youngster found at the edge of the +wilderness, was far too much to comprehend. + +In a single bound, old Jim had been elevated to a starry firmament of +importance, from wellnigh the lowest position of insignificance in the +camp, attained by his general worthlessness and shiftlessness--of mind +and demeanor--which qualities had passed into a proverb of the place. +Procrastination, like a cuckoo, had made its nest in his pockets, where +the hands of Jim would hatch its progeny. Labor and he abhorred each +other mightily. He had never been known to strike a lick of work till +larder and stomach were both of them empty and credit had taken to the +hills. He drawled in his speech till the opening parts of the good +resolutions he frequently uttered were old and forgotten before the +remainders were spoken. He loitered in his walk, said the boys, till +he clean forgot whether he was going up hill or down. "Hurry," he had +always said, by way of a motto, "is an awful waste of time that a +feller could go easy in." + +Yet in his shambling, easy-going way, old Jim had drifted into nearly +every heart in the camp. His townsmen knew he had once had a good +education, for outcroppings thereof jutted from his personality even as +his cheek-bones jutted out of his russet old countenance. + +Not by any means consenting to permit old Jim to understand how +astonishment was oozing from their every pore, the men brought forth by +Keno's news could not, however, entirely mask their incredulity and +interest. As Jim came deliberately down the trail, with the pale +little foundling on his arm, he was greeted with every possible term of +familiarity, to all of which he drawled a response in kind. + +Not a few in the group of citizens pulled off their hats at the nearer +approach of the child, then somewhat sheepishly put them on again. +With stoical resolutions almost immediately upset, they gathered +closely in about the miner and his tiny companion, crowding the +red-headed Keno away from his place of honor next to the child. + +The quaint little pilgrim, in his old, fur cap and long, "man's" +trousers, looked at the men in a grave way of doubt and questioning. + +"It's a sure enough kid, all the same," said one of the men, as if he +had previously entertained some doubts of the matter. "And ain't he +white!" + +"Of course a white kid's white," answered the barkeep, scornfully. + +"Awful cute little shaver," said another. "By cracky, Jim, you must +have had him up yer sleeve for a week! He don't look more'n about one +week old." + +"Aw, listen to the man afraid to know anything about anything!" broke +in the blacksmith. "One week! He's four or five months, or I'm a +woodchuck." + +"You kin tell by his teeth," suggested a leathery individual, stroking +his bony jaw knowingly. "I used to be up on the game myself, but I'm a +little out of practice jest at present." + +"Shut up, you scare him, Shaky," admonished the teamster. "He's a +pretty little chipmunk. Jim, wherever did you git him?" + +Jim explained every detail of his trip to fetch the pup, stretching out +his story of finding the child and bringing him hither, with pride in +every item of his wonderful performance. His audience listened with +profound attention, broken only by an occasional exclamation. + +"Old If-only Jim! Old son-of-a-sea-cook!" repeated one, time after +time. + +Meanwhile the silent little man himself was clinging to the miner's +flannel collar with all his baby strength. With shy little glances he +scanned the members of the group, and held the tighter to the one safe +anchorage in which he seemed to feel a confidence. A number of the +rough men furtively attempted a bit of coquetry, to win the favor of a +smile. + +"You don't mean, Jim, you found him jest a-settin' right in the bresh, +with them dead jack-rabbits lyin' all 'round?" insisted the carpenter. + +"That's what," said Jim, and reluctantly he brought the tale to its +final conclusion, adding his theory of the loss of the child by the +Indians on their hunt, and bearing down hard on the one little speech +that the tiny foundling had made just this morning. + +The rough men were silenced by this. One by one they took off their +hats again, smoothed their hair, and otherwise made themselves a trifle +prettier to look upon. + +"Well, what you goin' to do with him, Jim?" inquired Field, after a +moment. + +"Oh, I'll grow him up," said Jim. "And some day I'll send him to +college." + +"College be hanged!" said Field. "A lot of us best men in Borealis +never went to college--and we're proud of it!" + +"So the little feller said nobody wanted him, did he?" asked the +blacksmith. "Well, I wouldn't mind his stayin' 'round the shop. Where +do you s'pose he come from first? And painted like a little Piute +Injun! No wonder he's a scared little tike." + +"I ain't the one which scares him," announced a man whose hair, beard, +and eyes all stuck out amazingly. "If I'd 'a' found him first he'd +like me same as he takes to Jim." + +"Speakin' of catfish, where the little feller come from original is +what gits to me," said Field, the father of Borealis, reflectively. +"You see, if he's four or five months old, why he's sure undergrowed. +You could drink him up in a cupful of coffee and never even cough. And +bein' undergrowed, why, how could he go on a rabbit-drive along with +the Injuns? I'll bet you there's somethin' mysterious about his +origin." + +"Huh! Don't you jump onto no little shaver's origin when you 'ain't +got any too much to speak of yourself," the blacksmith commanded. +"He's as big as any little skeezucks of his size!" + +"Kin he read an' write?" asked a person of thirty-six, who had "picked +up" the mentioned accomplishments at the age of thirty-five. + +"He's alive and smart as mustard!" put in Keno, a champion by right of +prior acquaintance with the timid little man. + +"Wal, that's all right, but mustard don't do no sums in 'rithmetic," +said the bar-keep. "I'm kind of stuck, myself, on this here pup." + +Tintoretto had been busily engaged making friends in any direction most +handily presented. He wound sinuously out of the barkeep's reach, +however, with pup-wise discrimination. The attention of the company +was momentarily directed to the small dog, who came in for not a few of +the camp's outspoken compliments. + +"He's mebbe all right, but he's homely as Aunt Marier comin' through +the thrashin'-machine," decided the teamster. + +The carpenter added: "He's so all-fired awkward he can't keep step with +hisself." + +"Wal, he ain't so rank in his judgment as some I could indicate," +drawled Jim, prepared to defend both pup and foundling to the last +extent. "At least, he never thought he was smart, abscondin' with a +little free sample of a brain." + +"What kind of a mongrel is he, anyway?" inquired Bone. + +"Thorough-breed," replied old Jim. "There ain't nothing in him but +dog." + +The blacksmith was still somewhat longingly regarding the pale little +man who continued to cling to the miner's collar. "What's his name?" +said he. + +"Tintoretto," answered Jim, still on the subject of his yellowish pup. + +"Tintoretto?" said the company, and they variously attacked the +appropriateness of any such a "handle." + +"What fer did you ever call him that?" asked Bone. + +"Wal, I thought he deserved it," Jim confessed. + +"Poor little kid--that's all I've got to say," replied the +compassionate blacksmith. + +"That ain't the kid's name," corrected Jim, with alacrity. "That's +what I call the pup." + +"That's worse," said Field. "For he's a dumb critter and can't say +nothing back." + +"But what's the little youngster's name?" inquired the smith, once +again. + +"Yes, what's the little shaver's name?" echoed the teamster. "If it's +as long as the pup's, why, give us only a mile or two at first, and the +rest to-morrow." + +"I was goin' to name him 'Aborigineezer,'" Jim admitted, somewhat +sheepishly. "But he ain't no Piute Injun, so I can't." + +"Hard-hearted ole sea-serpent!" ejaculated Field. "No wonder he looks +like cryin'." + +"Oh, he ain't goin' to cry," said the blacksmith, roughly patting the +frightened little pilgrim's cheek with his great, smutty hand. "What's +he got to cry about, now he's here in Borealis?" + +"Well, leave him cry, if he wants to," said the fat little Keno. "I +'ain't heard a baby cry fer six or seven years." + +"Go off in a corner and cry in your pocket, and leave it come out as +you want it," suggested Bone. "Jim, you said the little feller kin +talk?" + +"Like a greasy dictionary," said Jim, proudly. + +"Well, start him off on somethin' stirrin'." + +"You can't start a little youngster off a-talkin' when you want to, any +more than you can start a turtle runnin' to a fire," drawled Jim, +sagely. + +"Then, kin he walk?" insisted the bar-keep. + +Jim said, "What do you s'pose he's wearin' pants for, if he couldn't?" + +"Put him down and leave us see him, then." + +"This ain't no place for a child to be walkin' 'round loose," objected +the gray old miner. "He'll walk some other time." + +"Aw, put him down," coaxed the smith. "We'd like to see a little +feller walk. There's never bin no such a sight in Borealis." + +"Yes, put him down!" chorused the crowd. + +"We'll give him plenty of elbow-room," added Webber. "Git back there, +boys, and give him a show." + +As the group could be satisfied with nothing less, and Jim was aware of +their softer feelings, he disengaged the tiny hand that was closed on +his collar and placed his tiny charge upon his feet in the road. + +How very small, indeed, he looked in his quaint little trousers and his +old fur cap! + +Instantly he threw the one little arm not engaged with the furry doll +about the big, dusty knee of his known protector, and buried his face +in the folds of the rough, blue overalls. + +"Aw, poor little tike!" said one of the men. "Take him back up, Jim. +Anyway, you 'ain't yet told us his name, and how kin any little shaver +walk which ain't got a name?" + +Jim took the mere little toy of a man again in his arms and held him +close against his heart. + +"He 'ain't really got any name," he confessed. "If only I had the +poetic vocabulary I'd give him a high-class out-and-outer." + +"What's the matter with a good old home-made name like Si or Hank or +Zeke?" inquired Field, who had once been known as Hank himself. + +"They ain't good enough," objected Jim. "If only I can git an +inspiration I'll fit him out like a barn with a bran'-new coat of +paint." + +"Well, s'pose--" started Keno, but what he intended to say was never +concluded. + +"What's the fight?" interrupted a voice, and the men shuffled aside to +give room to a well-dressed, dapper-looking man. It was Parky, the +gambler. He was tall, and easy of carriage, and cultivated a curving +black mustache. In his scarf he wore a diamond as large as a marble. +At his heels a shivering little black-and-tan dog, with legs no larger +than pencils and with a skull of secondary importance to its eyes, +followed him mincingly into the circle and stood beside his feet with +its tail curved in under its body. + +"What have you got? Huh! Nothing but a kid!" said the gambler, in +supreme contempt. + +"And a pup!" said Keno, aggressively. + +The gambler ignored the presence of the child, especially as Tintoretto +bounded clumsily forward and bowled his own shaking effigy of a canine +endways in one glad burst of friendship. + +The black-and-tan let out a feeble yelp. With his boot the gambler +threw Tintoretto six feet away, where he landed on his feet and turned +about growling and barking in puppywise questioning of this sudden +manoeuvre. With a few more staccato yelps, the shivering black-and-tan +retreated behind the gambler's legs. + +"Of all the ugly brutes I ever seen," said Parky, "that's the worst +yellow flea-trap of the whole caboose." + +"Wal, I don't know," drawled Jim, as he patted his timid little pilgrim +on the back in a way of comfort. "All dogs look alike to a flea, and I +reckon Tintoretto is as good flea-feed as the next. And, anyhow, I +wouldn't have a dog the fleas had deserted. When the fleas desert a +dog, it's the same as when the rats desert a ship. About that time a +dog has lost his doghood, and then he ain't no better than a man who's +lost his manhood." + +"Aw, I'd thump you and the cur together if you didn't have that kid on +deck," sneered the gambler. + +"You couldn't thump a drum," answered Jim, easily. "Come back here, +Tintoretto. Don't you touch that skinny little critter with the +shakes. I wouldn't let you eat no such a sugar-coated insect." + +The crowd was enjoying the set-to of words immensely. They now looked +to Parky for something hot. But the man of card-skill had little wit +of words. + +"Don't git too funny, old boy," he cautioned. "I'd just as soon have +you for breakfast as not." + +"I wish the fleas could say as much for you or your imitation dog," +retorted Jim. "There's just three things in Borealis that go around +smellin' thick of perfume, and you and that little two-ounce package of +dog-degeneration are maybe some worse than the other." + +Parky made a belligerent motion, but Webber, the blacksmith, caught his +arm in a powerful grip. + +"Not to-day," he said. "The boys don't want no gun-play here this +mornin'." + +"You're a lot of old women and babies," said Parky, and pushing through +the group he walked away, a certain graceful insolence in his bearing. + +"Speakin' of catfish," said Field, "we ought to git up some kind of a +celebration to welcome Jim's little skeezucks to the camp." + +"That's the ticket," agreed Bone. "What's the matter with repeatin' +the programme we had for the Fourth of July?" + +"No, we want somethin' new," objected the smith. "It ought to be +somethin' we never had before." + +"Why not wait till Christmas and git good and ready?" said Jim. + +The argument was that Christmas was something more than four weeks away. + +"We've got to have a rousin' big Christmas fer little Skeezucks, +anyhow," suggested Bone. "What sort of a celebration is there that we +'ain't never had in Borealis?" + +"Church," said Keno, promptly. + +This caused a silence for a moment. + +"Guess that's so, but--who wants church?" inquired the teamster. + +"We might git up somethin' worse," said a voice in the crowd. + +"How?" demanded another. + +"It wouldn't be so far off the mark for a little kid like him," +tentatively asserted Field, the father of the camp, "S'pose we give it +a shot?" + +"Anything suits me," agreed the carpenter. "Church might be kind of +decent, after all. Jim, what you got to say 'bout the subject?" + +Jim was still patting the timid little foundling on the back with a +comforting hand. + +"Who'd be preacher?" said he. + +They were stumped for a moment. + +"Why--you," said Keno. "Didn't you find little Skeezucks?" + +"Kerrect," said Bone. "Jim kin talk like a steam fire-engine squirtin' +languages." + +"If only I had the application," said Jim, modestly, "I might git up +somethin' passable. Where could we have it?" + +This was a stumper again. No building in the camp had ever been +consecrated to the uses of religious worship. + +Bone came to the rescue without delay. + +"You kin have my saloon, and not a cent of cost," said he. + +"Bully fer Bone!" said several of the men. + +"Y-e-s, but would it be just the tip-toppest, tippe-bob-royal of a +place?" inquired Field, a little cautiously. + +"What's the matter with it?" said Bone. "When it's church it's church, +and I guess it would know the way to behave! If there's anything +better, trot it out." + +"You can come to the shop if it suits any better," said the blacksmith. +"It 'ain't got no floor of gold, and there ain't nothing like wings, +exceptin' wheels, but the fire kin be kept all day to warm her up, and +there's plenty of room fer all which wants to come." + +"If I'm goin' to do the preachin',' I'd like the shop first rate," said +Jim. "What day is to-day?" + +"Friday," replied the teamster. + +"All right. Then we'll say on Sunday we celebrate with church in +Webber's blacksmith shop," agreed old Jim, secretly delighted beyond +expression. "We won't git gay with anything too high-falootin', but +we'd ought to git Shorty Hobb to show up with his fiddle." + +"Certain!" assented the barkeep. "You kin leave that part of the game +to me." + +"If we've got it all settled, I reckon I'll go back up to the shack," +said Jim. "The little feller 'ain't had a chance yet to play with his +doll." + +"Is that a doll?" inquired the teamster, regarding the grave little +pilgrim's bundle of fur in curiosity. "How does he know it's a doll?" + +"He knows a good sight more than lots of older people," answered Jim. +"And if only I've got the gumption I'll make him a whole slough of toys +and things." + +"Well, leave us say good-bye to him 'fore you go," said the blacksmith. +"Does he savvy shakin' hands?" + +He gave a little grip to the tiny hand that held the doll, and all the +others did the same. Little Skeezucks looked at them gravely, his +quaint baby face playing havoc with their rough hearts. + +"Softest little fingers I ever felt," said Webber. "I'd give twenty +dollars if he'd laugh at me once." + +"Awful nice little shaver," said another. + +"I once had a mighty touchin' story happen to me, myself," said Keno, +solemnly. + +"What was it?" inquired a sympathetic miner. + +"Couldn't bear to tell it--not this mornin'," said Keno. "Too +touchin'." + +"Good-bye fer just at present, little Skeezucks," said Field, and, +suddenly divesting himself of his brazen watch and chain, he offered it +up as a gift, with spontaneous generosity. "Want it, Skeezucks?" said +he. "Don't you want to hear it go?" + +The little man would relax neither his clutch on Jim's collar nor his +hold of his doll, wherefore he had no hand with which to accept the +present. + +"Do you think he runs a pawn-shop, Field?" said the teamster. "Put it +back." + +The men all guffawed in their raucous way. + +"Keeps mighty good time, all the same," said Field, and he re-swung the +chain, like a hammock, from the parted wings of his vest, and dropped +the huskily ticking guardian of the minutes back to its place in his +pocket. + +"Watches that don't keep perfect time," drawled Jim, "are scarcer than +wimmin who tell their age on the square." + +"Better come over, Jim, and have a drink," suggested the barkeep. +"You're sure one of the movin' spirits of Borealis." + +"No, I don't think I'll start the little feller off with the drinkin' +example," replied the miller. "You'll often notice that the men who +git the name of bein' movin' spirits is them that move a good deal of +whiskey into their interior department. I reckon we'll mosey home the +way we are." + +"I guess I'll join you up above," said the fat little Keno, pulling +stoutly at his sleeves. "You'll need me, anyway, to cut some brush fer +the fire." + +With tiny Skeezucks gravely looking backward at the group of men all +waving their hats in a rough farewell, old Jim started proudly up the +trail that led to the Babylonian Glory claim, with Tintoretto romping +awkwardly at his heels. + +Suddenly, Webber, the blacksmith, left the groups and ran quickly after +them up the slope. + +"Say, Jim," he said. "I thought, perhaps, if you reckoned little +Skeezucks ought to bunk down here in town--why--I wouldn't mind if you +fetched him over to the house. There's plenty of room." + +"Wal, not to-day I won't," said Jim. "But thank you, Webber, all the +same." + +"All right, but if you change your mind it won't be no trouble at all," +and, not a little disappointed, the smith waved once more to the little +pilgrim on the miner's arm and went back down the hill. + +Then up spoke Keno. + +"Bone and Lufkins both wanted me to tell you, Jim, if you happen to +want a change fer little Skeezucks, you can fetch him down to them," he +said. "But of course we ain't agoin' to let 'em have our little kid in +no great shakes of a hurry." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +VISITORS AT THE CABIN + +When Jim and his company had disappeared from view up the rock-strewn +slope, the men left below remained in a group, to discuss not only the +marvellous advent of a genuine youngster in Borealis, but likewise the +fitness of old If-only Jim as a foster-parent. + +"I wouldn't leave him raise a baby rattlesnake of mine," said Field, +whose watch had not been accepted by the foundling. "In fact, there +ain't but a few of us here into camp which knows the funderments of +motherhood, anyhow." + +"I don't mind givin' Jim a few little pointers on the racket," +responded Bone. "Never knew Jim yet to chuck out my advice. + +"He's too lazy to chuck it," vouchsafed the teamster. "He just lets it +trickle out and drip." + +"Well, we'll watch him, that's all," Field remarked, with a knowing +squint in his eyes, and employing a style he would not have dared to +parade in the hearing of Jim. "Borealis has come to her formaline +period, and she can't afford to leave this child be raised extraneous. +It's got to be done with honor and glory to the camp, even if we have +to take the kid away from Jim complete." + +"He found the little skeezucks, all the same," the blacksmith reminded +them. "That counts for somethin'. He's got a right to keep him for a +while, at least, unless the mother should heave into town." + +"Or the dad," added Lufkins. + +"Shoot the dad!" answered Bone. "A dad which would let a little feller +small as him git lost in the brush don't deserve to git him back." + +"Mysterious case, sure as lizards is insects," said an individual +heretofore silent. "I guess I'll go and tell Miss Doc Dennihan." + +"'Ain't Miss Doc bin told--and her the only decent woman in the camp?" +inquired Field. "I'll go along and see you git it right." + +"No Miss Doc in mine," said the smith. + +"I'll git back and blow my fire up before she's plump dead out. +Fearful vinegar Miss Doc would make if ever she melted." + +Miss Dennihan, sister of "Doc" Dennihan, was undeniably If-only Jim's +exact antithesis--a scrupulously tidy, exacting lady, so severe in her +virtues and so acrid in denunciations of the lack of down-east +circumspection that nearly every man in camp shied off from her abode +as he might have shied from a bath in nitric acid. Six months prior to +this time she had come to Borealis from the East, unexpectedly plumping +down upon her brother "Doc" with all her moral fixity of purpose, not +only to his great distress of mind, but also to that of all his +acquaintances as well. She had raided the ethical standing of miners, +teamsters, and men-about-town; she had outwardly and inwardly condemned +the loose and indecorous practices of the camp; she had made herself an +accusing hand, as it were, pointing out the road to perdition which all +and sundry of the citizens of Borealis, including "Doc," were +travelling. If-only Jim had promptly responded to her natural +antipathy to all that he represented, and the strained relations +between the pair had furnished much amusement for the male population +of the place. + +It was now to this lady that Field and his friend proposed a visit. +The group of men broke up, and the news that each one had to tell of +the doings of Jim was widely spread; and the wonder increased till it +stretched to the farthest confines of the place. Then as fast as the +miners and other laborers, who were busy with work, could get away for +a time sufficiently long, they made the pilgrimage up the slope to the +cabin where the tiny foundling had domicile. They found the timid +little man seated, with his doll, on the floor, from which he watched +them gravely, in his baby way. + +Half the honors of receiving the groups and showing off the quaint +little Skeezucks were assumed by Keno, with a grace that might have +been easy had he not been obliged to pull down his shirt-sleeves with +such exasperating frequency. + +But Jim was the hero of the hour, as he very well knew. Time after +time, and ever with thrilling new detail and added incident, he +recounted the story of his find, gradually robbing even Tintoretto, the +pup, of such of the glory as he really had earned. + +The pup, however, was recklessly indifferent. He could pile up fresh +glories every minute by bowling the little pilgrim on his back and +walking on his chest to lap his ear. This he proceeded to do, in his +clumsy way of being friendly, with a regularity only possible to an +enthusiast. And every time he did it anew, either Keno or Jim or a +visitor would shy something at him and call him names. This, however, +only served to incite him to livelier antics of licking everybody's +face, wagging himself against the furniture, and dragging the various +bombarding missiles between the legs of all the company. + +There were men, who apparently had nothing else to do, who returned to +the cabin on the hill with every new visiting deputation. A series of +ownership in and familiarity with the grave little chap and his story +came upon them rapidly. Field, the father of Borealis, was the most +assiduous guide the camp afforded. By afternoon he knew more about the +child than even Jim himself. + +For his part, the lanky Jim sat on a stool, looking wiser than Solomon +and Moses rolled in one, and greeted his wondering acquaintances with a +calm and dignity that his oneness in the great event was magnifying +hourly. That such an achievement as finding a lost little pilgrim in +the wilderness might be expected of his genius every day was firmly +impressed upon himself, if not on all who came. + +"Speakin' of catfish, Jim thinks he's hoein' some potatoes." said Field +to a group of his friends. "If one of us real live spirits of Borealis +had bin in his place, it's ten to one we'd 'a' found a pair of twins." + +All the remainder of the day, and even after dinner, and up to eight +o'clock in the evening, the new arrivals, or the old ones over again, +made the cabin on the hill their Mecca. + +"Shut the door, Keno, and sit outside, and tell any more that come +along, the show is over for the day," instructed Jim, at last. "The +boy is goin' to bed." + +"Did he bring a nightie?" said Keno. + +"Forgot it, I reckon," answered Jim, as he took the tired little chap +in his arms. "If only I had the enterprise I'd make him one to-night." + +But it never got made. The pretty little armful of a boy went to sleep +with all his baby garments on, the long "man's" trousers and all, and +Jim permitted all to remain in place, for the warmth thereof, he said. +Into the bunk went the tiny bundle of humanity, his doll tightly held +to his breast. + +Then Jim sat down and watched the bunk, till Keno had come inside and +climbed in a bed and begun a serenade. At twelve o'clock the miner was +still awake. He went to his door, and, throwing it open, looked out at +the great, dark mountains and the brilliant sky. + +"If only I had the steam I'd open up the claim and make the little +feller rich," he drawled to himself. Then he closed the door, and, +removing his clothing, got into the berth where his tiny guest was +sleeping, and knew no more till the morning came and a violent knocking +on his window prodded his senses into something that answered for +activity. + +"Come in!" he called. "Come in, and don't waste all that noise." + +The pup awoke and let out a bark. + +In response to the miner's invitation the caller opened the door and +entered. Jim and Keno had their heads thrust out of their bunks, but +the two popped in abruptly at the sight of a tall female figure. She +was homely, a little sharp as to features, and a little near together +and piercing as to eyes. Her teeth were prominent, her mouth +unquestionably generous in dimensions, and a mole grew conspicuously +upon her chin. Nevertheless, she looked, as Jim had once confessed, +"remarkly human." On her head she wore a sun-bonnet. Her black alpaca +dress was as styleless and as shiny as a stovepipe. It was short, +moreover, and therefore permitted a view of a large, flat pair of shoes +on which polish for the stovepipe aforesaid had been lavishly coated. + +It was Miss Doc Dennihan. Having duly heard of the advent of a quaint +little boy, found in the brush by the miner, she had come thus early in +the morning to gratify a certain hunger that her nature felt for the +sight of a child. But always one of the good woman's prides had been +concealment of her feelings, desires, and appetites. She had formed a +habit, likewise, of hiding not a few of her intentions. Instead of +inquiring now for what she sought, she glanced swiftly about the +interior of the cabin and said: + +"Ain't you lazy-joints got up yet in this here cabin?" + +"Been up and hoisted the sun and went back to bed," drawled Jim, while +Keno drew far back in his berth and fortified himself behind his +blankets. "Glad to see you, but sorry you've got to be goin' again so +soon." + +"I 'ain't got to be goin'," corrected the visitor, with decision. "I +jest thought I'd call in and see if your clothin' and kitchen truck was +needin' a woman's hand. Breakfast over to our house is finished and +John has went to work, and everything has bin did up complete, so +'tain't as if I was takin' the time away from John; and this here place +is disgraceful dirty, as I could see with nuthin' but a store eye. Is +these here over-halls your'n?" + +"When I'm in 'em I reckon they are," drawled Jim, in some disquietude +of mind. "But don't you touch 'em! Them pants is heirlooms. Wouldn't +have anybody fool with them for a million dollars." + +"They don't look worth no such a figger," said Miss Dennihan, as she +held them up and scanned them with a critical eye. "They're wantin' a +patch in the knee. It's lucky fer you I toted my bag. I kin always +match overhalls, new or faded." + +Keno slyly ventured to put forth his head, but instantly drew it back +again. + +Jim, in his bunk, was beginning to sweat. He held his little foundling +by the hand and piled up a barrier of blankets before them. That many +another of the male residents of Borealis had been honored by similar +visitations on the part of Miss Doc was quite the opposite of +reassuring. That the lady generally came as a matter of curiosity, and +remained in response to a passion for making things glisten with +cleanliness, he had heard from a score of her victims. He knew she was +here to get her eyes on the grave little chap he was cuddling from +sight, but he had no intention of sharing the tiny pilgrim with any one +whose attentions would, he deemed, afford a trial to the nerves. + +"Seems to me the last time I saw old Doc his shirt needed stitchin' in +the sleeve," he said. "How about that, Keno?" + +Keno was dumb as a clam. + +"You never seen nuthin' of the sort," corrected Miss Doc, with +asperity, and, removing her bonnet, she sat down on a stool, Jim's +overalls in hand and her bag in her lap. "John's mended regular, all +but his hair, and if soap-suds and bear's-grease would patch his top he +wouldn't be bald another day." + +"He ain't exactly bald," drawled the uncomfortable miner. "His hair +was parted down the middle by a stroke of lightnin'. Or maybe you +combed it yourself." + +"Don't you try to git comical with me!" she answered. "I didn't come +here for triflin'." + +Her back being turned towards the end of the room wherein the redheaded +Keno was ensconced, that diffident individual furtively put forth his +hand and clutched up his boots and trousers from the floor. The latter +he managed to adjust as he wormed about in the berth. Then silently, +stealthily, trembling with excitement, he put out his feet, and +suddenly bolting for the door, with his boots in hand, let out a yell +and shot from the house like a demon, the pup at his heels, loudly +barking. + +"Keno! Keno! come back here and stand your share!" bawled Jim, +lustily, but to no avail. + +"Mercy in us!" Miss Doc exclaimed. "That man must be crazy." + +Jim sank back in his bunk hopelessly. + +"It's only his clothes makes him look foolish," he answered. "He's +saner than I am, plain as day." + +"Then it's lucky I came," decided the visitor, vigorously sewing at the +trousers. "The looks of this house is enough to drive any man insane. +You're an ornary, shiftless pack of lazy-joints as ever I seen. Why +don't you git up and cook your breakfast?" + +Perspiration oozed from the modest Jim afresh. + +"I never eat breakfast in the presence of ladies," said he. + +"Well, you needn't mind me. I'm jest a plain, sensible woman," replied +Miss Dennihan. "I don't want to see no feller-critter starve." + +Jim writhed in the blankets. "I didn't s'pose you could stay all day," +he ventured. + +"I kin stay till I mend all your garmints and tidy up this here cabin," +she announced, calmly. "So let your mind rest easy." She meant to see +that child if it took till evening to do so. + +"Maybe I can go to sleep again and dream I'm dead," said Jim, in +growing despair. + +"If you kin, and me around, you can beat brother John all to cream," +she responded, smoothing out the mended overalls and laying them down +on a stool. "Now you kin give me your shirt." + +Jim galvanically gathered the blankets in a tightened noose about his +neck. + +"Hold on!" he said. "Hold on! This shirt is a bran'-new article, and +you'd spoil it if you come within twenty-five yards of it with a +needle." + +"Where's your old one?" she demanded, atilt for something more to +repair. Her gaze searched the bunks swiftly, and Jim was sure she was +looking for the little man behind him. "Where's your old one went?" +she repeated. + +"I turned it over on a friend of mine," drawled Jim, who meant he had +deftly reversed it on himself. "It's a poor shirt that won't work both +ways." + +"Ain't there nuthin' more I kin mend?" she asked. + +"Not unless it's somethin' of Doc's down to your lovely little home." + +"Oh, I ain't agoin' to go, if that's what you're drivin' at," she +answered, as she swiftly assembled the soiled utensils of the cuisine. +"I'll tidy up this here pig-pen if it takes a week, and you kin hop up +and come down easy." + +"I wouldn't have you go for nothing," drawled Jim, squirming with +abnormal impatience to be up and doing. "Angel's visits are comin' +fewer and fewer in a box every day." + +"That's bogus," answered the lady. "I sense your oilin' me over. You +git up and go and git a fresh pail of water." + +"I'd like to," Jim said, convincingly, "but the only time I ever broke +my arm was when I went out for a bucket of water before breakfast." + +"You ain't agoin' is what you mean, with all them come-a-long-way-round +excuses," she conjectured. "You've got the name of bein' the +laziest-jointed, mos' shiftless man into camp." + +"Wal," drawled the helpless miner, "a town without a horrible example +is deader than the spikes in Adam's coffin. And the next best thing to +being a livin' example is to hang around the house where one of 'em +stays in his bunk all mornin'." + +"If that's another of them underhanded hints of your'n, you might as +well save your breath," she replied. "I'll go and git the water +myself, fer them dishes is goin' to git cleaned." + +She took up the bucket at once. Outside, the sounds of some one +scooting rapidly away brought to Jim a thought of Keno's recently +demonstrated presence of mind. + +Cautiously sitting up in the berth, so soon as Miss Doc had disappeared +with the pail, he hurriedly drew on his boots. A sound of returning +footsteps came to his startled ears. He leaped back up in the bunk, +boots and all, and covered himself with the blanket, to the startlement +of the timid little chap, who was sitting there to watch developments. +Both drew down as Miss Doc reappeared in the door. + +"I might as well tote a kettleful, too," she said, and taking that +soot-plated article from its hook in the chimney she once more started +for the spring. + +This time, like a guilty burglar, old Jim crept out to the door. Then +with one quick resolve he caught up his trousers, and snatching his +pale little guest from the berth, flung a blanket about them, sneaked +swiftly out of the cabin, stole around to its rear, and ran with +long-legged awkwardness down through a shallow ravine to the cover of a +huge heap of bowlders, where he paused to finish his toilet. + +"Hoot! Hoot!" sounded furtively from somewhere near. Then Keno came +ducking towards him from below, with Tintoretto in his wake, so +rampantly glad in his puppy heart that he instantly climbed on the +timid little Skeezucks, sitting for convenience on the earth, and +bowled him head over heels. + +"Here, pup, you abate yourself," said Jim. "Be solemnly glad and let +it go at that." And he took up the gasping little chap, whose doll +was, as ever, clasped fondly to his heart. + +"How'd you make it?" inquired Keno. "Has she gone for good?" + +"No, she's gone for water," answered the miner, ruefully. "She's set +on cleanin' up the cabin. I'll bet when she's finished we'll have to +pan the gravel mighty careful to find even a color of our once happy +home." + +"Well, you got away, anyhow," said Keno, consolingly. "You can't have +your cake and eat it too." + +"No, that's the one nasty thing about cake," said Jim. He sat on a +rock and addressed the wondering little pilgrim, who was watching his +face with baby gravity. "Did she scare the boy?" he asked. "Is he +gittin' hungry? Does pardner want some breakfast?" + +The little fellow nodded. + +"What would little Skeezucks like old brother Jim to make for +breakfast?" + +The quaint bit of a man drew a trifle closer to the rough old coat and +timidly answered: + +"Bwead--an'--milk." + +The two men started mildly. + +"By jinks!" said the awe-smitten Keno. "By jinks!--talkin'!" + +"I told you so," said Jim, suppressing his excitement. "Bread and +milk?" he repeated. "Just bread and milk. You poor little shaver! +Wal, that's as easy as oyster stew or apple-dumplin'. Baby want +anything else?" + +The small boy shook a negative. + +"By jinks!" said Keno, as before. "Look at him go it!" + +"I'll make some bread to-day, if ever we git back into Eden," said Jim. +"And I'll make him a lot of things. If only I had the stuff in me I'd +make him a Noah's ark and a train of cars and a fat mince-pie. Would +little Skeezucks like a train of cars?" + +Again the little pilgrim shook his head. + +"Then what more would the baby like?" coaxed the miner. + +Again with his shy little cuddling up the wee man answered, +"Moey--bwead--an'--milk." + +"By jinks!" repeated the flabbergasted Keno, and he pulled at his +sleeves with all his strength. + +"Say, Keno," said Jim, "go find Miss Doc's goat and milk him for the +boy." + +"Miss Doc may be home by now," objected Keno, apprehensively. + +"Well, then, sneak up and see if she has gone off real mad." + +"S'posen she 'ain't?" Keno promptly hedged. "S'posen she seen me?" + +"You've got all out-doors to skedaddle in, I reckon." + +Keno, however, had many objections to any manner of venture with the +wily Miss Dennihan. It took nearly half an hour of argument to get him +up to the brow of the slope. Then, to his uncontainable delight, he +beheld the disgusted and somewhat defeated Miss Doc more than half-way +down the trail to Borealis, and making shoe-tracks with assuring +rapidity. + +"Hoot! Hoot!" he called, in a cautious utterance. "She's went, and +the cabin looks just the same--from here." + +But Jim, when he came there, with his tiny guest upon his arm, looked +long at the well-scrubbed floor and the tidy array of pots, pans, +plates, and cups. + +"We'll never find the salt, or nothin', for a week," he drawled. "It +does take some people an awful long time to learn not to meddle with +the divine order of things." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE BELL FOR CHURCH + +What with telling little Skeezucks of all the things he meant to make, +and fondling the grave bit of babyhood, and trying to work out the +story of how he came to be utterly unsought for, deserted, and +parentless, Jim had hardly more than time enough remaining, that day, +in which to entertain the visiting men, who continued to climb the hill +to the house. + +Throughout that Saturday there was never more than fifteen minutes when +some of the big, rough citizens of Borealis were not on hand, +attempting always to get the solemn little foundling to answer some +word to their efforts at baby conversation. But neither to them, for +the strange array of presents they offered, nor to Jim himself, for all +his gentle coaxing, would the tiny chap vouchsafe the slightest hint of +who he was or whence he had come. + +It is doubtful if he knew. By the hour he sat where they placed him, +holding his doll with something more deep and hungry than affection, +and looking at Jim or the visitors in his pretty, baby way of gravity +and questioning. + +When he sat on old Jim's knee, however, he leaned in confidence against +him, and sighed with a sweet little sound of contentment, as poignant +to reinspire a certain ecstasy of sadness in the miner's breast as it +was to excite an envy in the hearts of the others. + +Next to Jim, he loved Tintoretto--that joyous, irresponsible bit of +pup-wise gladness whose tail was so utterly inadequate to express his +enthusiasm that he wagged his whole fuzzy self in the manner of an +awkward fish. Never was the tiny man seated with his doll on the floor +that the pup failed to pounce upon him and push him over, half a dozen +times. Never did this happen that one of the men, or Jim himself, did +not at once haul Tintoretto, growling, away by the tail or the ear and +restore their tiny guest to his upright position. Never did such a +good Samaritan fail to raise his hand for a cuff at the pup, nor ever +did one of them actually strike. It ended nearly always in the pup's +attack on the hand in question, which he chewed and pawed at and +otherwise befriended as only a pup, in his freedom from worries and +cares, can do. + +With absolutely nothing prepared, and with nothing but promises made +and forgotten, old Jim beheld the glory of Sunday morning come, with +the bite and crystalline sunshine of the season in the mountain air. + +God's thoughts must be made in Nevada, so lofty and flawless is the +azure sky, so utterly transparent is the atmosphere, so huge, gray, and +passionless the mighty reach of mountains! + +Man's little thought was expressed in the camp of Borealis, which +appeared like a herd of small, brown houses, pitifully insignificant in +all that immensity, and gathered together as if for company, trustfully +nestling in the hand of the earth-mother, known to be so gentle with +her children. On the hill-sides, smaller mining houses stood, each one +emphasized by the blue-gray heap of earth and granite--the dump--formed +by the labors of the restless men who burrowed in the rock for precious +metal. The road, which seemed to have no ending-place, was blazed +through the brush and through the hills in either direction across the +miles and miles of this land without a people. The houses of Borealis +stood to right and left of this path through the wilderness, as if by +common consent to let it through. + +Meagre, unknown, unimportant Borealis, with her threescore men and one +decent woman, shared, like the weightiest empire, in the smile, the +care, the yearning of the ever All-Pitiful, greeting the earth with +another perfect day. + +Intelligence of what could be expected, in the way of a celebration at +the blacksmith-shop of Webber, had been more than merely spread; it had +almost been flooded over town. Long before the hour of ten, scheduled +by common consent for church to commence, Webber was sweeping sundry +parings of horse-hoof and scraps of iron to either side of his hard +earth floor, and sprinkling the dust with water that he flirted from +his barrel. He likewise wiped off the anvil with his leathern apron, +and making a fire in the forge to take off the chill, thrust in a huge +hunk of iron to irradiate the heat. + +Many of the denizens of Borealis came and laid siege to the barber-shop +as early as six in the morning. Hardly a man in the place, except +Parky, the gambler, had been dressed in extravagance so imposing since +the 4th of July as was early apparent in the street. Bright new +shirts, red, blue, and even white, came proudly to the front. Trousers +were dropped outside of boots, and the boots themselves were polished. +A run on bear's-grease and hair-oil lent a shining halo to nearly every +head the camp could boast. Then the groups began to gather near the +open shop of the smith. + +"We'd ought to have a bell," suggested Lufkins, the teamster. +"Churches always ring the bell to let the parson know it's time he was +showin' up to start the ball." + +"Well, I'll string up a bar of steel," said Webber. "You can get a +crackin' fine lot of noise out of that." + +He strung it up in a framework just outside the door, ordinarily +employed for hoisting heavy wagons from the earth. Then with a hammer +he struck it sharply. + +The clear, ringing tone that vibrated all through the hills was a +stirring note indeed. So the bell-ringer struck his steel again. + +"That ain't the way to do the job," objected Field. "That sounds like +scarin' up voters at a measly political rally." + +"Can you do it any better?" said the smith, and he offered his hammer. + +"Here comes Doc Dennihan," interrupted the barkeep. "Ask Doc how it's +done. If he don't know, we'll have to wait for old If-only Jim +hisself." + +The brother of the tall Miss Doc was a small man with outstanding ears, +the palest gray eyes, and the quietest of manners. He was not a doctor +of anything, hence his title. Perhaps the fact that the year before he +had quietly shot all six of the bullets of his Colt revolver into the +body of a murderous assailant before that distinguished person could +fall to the earth had invested his townsmen and admirers with a modest +desire to do him a titular honor. Howsoever that might have been, he +had always subsequently found himself addressed with sincere respect, +while his counsel had been sought on every topic, possible, impossible, +and otherwise, mooted in all Borealis. The fact that his sister was +the "boss of his shack," and that he, indeed, was a henpecked man, was +never, by any slip of courtesy, conversationally paraded, especially in +his hearing. + +Appealed to now concerning the method of ringing the bar of steel for +worshipful purposes, he took a bite at his nails before replying. Then +he said: + +"Well, I'd ring it a little bit faster than you would for a funeral and +a little bit slower than you would for a fire." + +"That's the stuff!" said Field. "I knowed that Doc would know." + +But Doc refused them, nevertheless, when they asked if he would deign +to do the ringing himself. Consequently Field, the father of the camp, +made a gallant attempt at the work, only to miss the "bell" with his +hammer and strike himself on the knee, after which he limped to a seat, +declaring they didn't need a bell-ringing anyhow. Upon the blacksmith +the duty devolved by natural selection. + +He rang a lusty summons from the steel, that fetched all the dressed-up +congregation of the town hastening to the scene. Still, old Jim, the +faithful Keno, little Skeezucks, and Tintoretto failed to appear. A +deputation was therefore sent up the hill, where Jim was found +informing his household that if only he had the celerity of action he +would certainly make a Sunday suit of clothing for the tiny little man. +For himself, he had washed and re-turned his shirt, combed his hair, +and put on a better pair of boots, which the pup had been chewing to +occupy his leisure time. + +The small but impressive procession came slowly down the trail at last, +Jim in the lead, with the grave little foundling on his arm. + +"Boys," said he, as at last he entered the dingy shop and sat his +quaint bit of a man on the anvil, over which he had thoughtfully thrown +his coat--"boys, if only I'd had about fifteen minutes more of time I'd +have thought up all the tricks you ever saw in a church." + +The men filed in, awkwardly taking off their hats, and began to seat +themselves as best they could, on anything they found available. +Webber, the smith, went stoutly at his bellows, and blew up a fire that +flamed two feet above the forge, fountaining fiercely with sparks of +the iron in the coal, and tossing a ruddy light to the darkest corners +of the place. The incense of labor--that homely fragrance of the +smithy all over the world--spread fresh and new to the very door +itself. Old Jim edged closer to the anvil and placed his hand on the +somewhat frightened little foundling, sitting there so gravely, and +clasping his doll in fondness to his heart. + +Outside, it was noted, Field had halted the red-headed Keno for a +moment's whispered conversation. Keno nodded knowingly. Then he came +inside, and, addressing them all, but principally Jim, he said: + +"Say, before we open up, Miss Doc would like to know if she kin come." + +A silence fell on all the men. Webber went hurriedly and closed the +ponderous door. + +"Wal, she wouldn't be apt to like it till we get a little practised +up," said the diplomatic Jim, who knew the tenor of his auditors. +"Tell her maybe she kin--some other time." + +"This ain't no regular elemercenary institution," added the teamster. + +"Why not now?" demanded Field. "Why can't she come?" + +"Becuz," said the smith, "this church ain't no place for a woman, +anyhow." + +A general murmur of assent came from all the men save Field and Doc +Dennihan himself. + +"Leave the show commence," said a voice. + +"Start her up," said another. + +"Wal, now," drawled Jim, as he nervously stroked his beard, "let's take +it easy. Which opening do all you fellers prefer?" + +No one answered. + +One man finally inquired. "How many kinds is there?" + +Jim said, "Wal, there's the Methodist, the Baptist, the Graeco-Roman, +Episcopalian, and--the catch-as-catch-can." + +"Give us the ketch-and-kin-ketch-as-you-kin," responded the spokesman. + +"Mebbe we ought to begin with Sunday-school," suggested the blacksmith. +"That would sort of get us ready for the real she-bang." + +"How do you do it?" inquired Lufkins, the teamster. + +"Oh, it's just mostly catechism," Jim imparted, sagely. + +"And what's catechism?" said Bone. + +"Catechism," drawled the miner, "is where you ask a lot of questions +that only the children can answer." + +"I know," responded the blacksmith, squatting down before the anvil. +"Little Skeezucks, who made you?" + +The quaint little fellow looked at the brawny man timidly. How pale, +how wee he appeared in all that company, as he sat on the great lump of +iron, solemnly winking his big, brown eyes and clinging to his +make-shift of a doll! + +"Aw, say, give him something easy," said Lufkins. + +"That's what they used to bang at me," said the smith, defending his +position. "But I'll ask him the easiest one of the lot. Baby boy," he +said, in a gentle way of his own, "who is it makes everything?--who +makes all the lovely things in the world?" + +Shyly the tiny man leaned back on the arm he felt he knew, and gravely, +to the utter astonishment of the big, rough men, in his sweet baby +utterance, he said: + +"Bruv-ver--Jim." + +A roar of laughter instantly followed, giving the youngster a start +that almost shook him from his seat. + +"By jinks!" said Keno. "That's all right. You bet he knows." + +But the Sunday-school programme was not again attempted. When +something like calm had settled once more on the audience, If-only Jim +remarked that he guessed they would have to quit their fooling and get +down to the business of church. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SUNDAY HAPPENINGS + +But to open the service when quiet reigned again and expectation was +once more concentrated upon him afforded something of a poser still to +the lanky old Jim, elected to perform the offices of leading. + +"Where's Shorty Hobb with his fiddle?" said he. + +"Parky wouldn't leave him come," answered Bone. "He loaned him money +on his vierlin, and he says he owns it and won't leave him play in no +church that ever got invented." + +"Parky, hey?" said Jim, drawlingly. "Wal, bless his little home'pathic +pill of a soul!" + +"He says he's fed more poor and done more fer charity than any man in +town," informed a voice. + +"Does, hey?" said the miner. "I'll bet his belly's the only poor thing +he feeds regular. His hand ain't got callous cutting bread for the +orphans. But he ain't a subject for church. If only I'd 'a' known +what he was agoin' to do I'd made a harp. But let it go. We'll start +off with roll-call and follow that up with a song." + +He therefore began with the name of Webber, who responded "Here," and +proceeding to note who was present, he drawled the name or familiar +sobriquet of each in turn, till all had admitted they were personally +in attendance. + +"Ahem," said Jim, at the end of this impressive ceremony. "Now we'll +sing a hymn. What hymn do you fellows prefer?" + +There was not a great confusion of replies; in fact, the confusion +resulted from a lack thereof. + +"As no one indicates a preference," announced the miner, "we'll tackle +'Darling, I am growing old.' Are there any objections? All in +favor?--contrary minded?--the motion prevails. Now, then, all +together--'Darling--'Why don't you all git in?" + +"How does she go?" inquired Webber. + +"She goes like this," Jim replied, clearing his throat: + + "'Darling, I am growing o-old, + Silver bars among the gold; + Shine upon--te dum te dumpty-- + Far from the old folks at home.'" + +"Don't know it," said a voice. + +"Neither do I." + +"Nor I." + +"Nor I." + +The sheep of the flock all followed in a chorus of "Nor I's." + +"What's the matter with 'Swing Low, Sweet Cheery O'?" inquired Lufkins. + +"Suits me," Jim replied. "Steam up." + +He and the teamster, in duet, joined very soon by all the congregation, +sang over and over the only lines they could conjure back to memory, +and even these came forth in remarkable variety. For the greater part, +however, the rough men were fairly well united on the simple version: + + "'Swing low, sweet cheery O, + Comin' for to carry me home; + Swing low, sweet cheery O, + Comin' for to carry me home.'" + +This was sung no less than seven times, when Jim at length lifted his +hand for the end. + +"We'll follow this up with the Lord's Prayer," he said. + +Laying his big, freckled hand on the shoulder of the wondering little +pilgrim, seated so quietly upon the anvil, he closed his eyes and bowed +his head. How thin, but kindly, was his rugged face as the lines were +softened by his attitude! + +He began with hesitation. The prayer, indeed, was a stumbling towards +the long-forgotten--the wellnigh unattainable. + + "'Our Father which art in heaven . . . + Our Father which art in heaven--' + +"Now, hold on, just a minute," and he paused to think before resuming +and wiped his suddenly sweating brow. + + "'Our Father which art in heaven-- + If I should die before I wake . . . + Give us our daily bread. Amen.'" + +The men all sat in silence. Then Keno whispered, so loudly that every +one could hear; + +"By jinks! I didn't think he could do it!" + +"We'll now have another hymn," announced the leader, "There used to be +one that went on something about, 'I'm lost and far away from the +shack, and it's dark, and lead me--somewhere--kindly light.' Any one +remember the words all straight?" + +"I don't," replied the blacksmith, "but I might come in on the chorus." + +"Seems to me," said Bone, "a candle or just a plain, unvarnished light, +would 'a' went out. It must have bin a lantern." + +"Objection well taken," responded Jim, gravely. "I reckon I got it +turned 'round a minute ago. It was more like: + + "'Lead me on, kindly lantern, + For I am far from home, + And the night is dark.'" + +"It don't sound like a song--not exactly," ventured Lufkins. "Why not +give 'em 'Down on the Swanee River'?" + +"All right," agreed the "parson," and therefore they were all presently +singing at the one perennial "hymn" of the heart, universal in its +application, sweetly religious in its humanism. They sang it with a +woful lack of its own original lines; they put in string on string of +"dum te dums," but it came from their better natures and it sanctified +the dingy shop. + +When it was ended, which was not until it had gone through persistent +repetitions, old Jim was prepared for almost anything. + +"I s'pose you boys want a regular sermon," said he, "and if only I'd +'a' had the time--wal, I won't say what a torch-light procession of a +sermon you'd have got, but I'll do the best I can." + +He cleared his throat, struck an attitude inseparable from American +elocution, and began: + +"Fellow-citizens--and ladies and gentlemen--we--we're an ornary lot of +backwoods fellers, livin' away out here in the mountains and the brush, +but God Almighty 'ain't forgot us, all the same. He sent a little +youngster once to put a heartful of happiness into men, and He's sent +this little skeezucks here to show us boys we ain't shut off from +everything. He didn't send us no bonanza--like they say they've got in +Silver Treasury--but I wouldn't trade the little kid for all the +bullion they will ever melt. We ain't the prettiest lot of ducks I +ever saw, and we maybe blow the ten commandants all over the camp with +giant powder once in a while, lookin' 'round for gold, but, boys, we +ain't throwed out complete. We've got the love and pity of God +Almighty, sure, when he gives us, all to ourselves, a little helpless +feller for to raise. I know you boys all want me to thank the Father +of us all, and that's what I do. And I hope He'll let us know the way +to give the little kid a good square show, for Christ's sake. Amen." + +The men would have listened to more. They expected more, indeed, and +waited to hear old Jim resume. + +"That's about all," he said, as no one spoke, "except, of course, we'll +sing some more of the hymns and take up collection. I guess we'd +better take collection first." + +The congregation stirred. Big hands went down into pockets. + +"Who gets the collection?" queried Field. + +Jim drawled, "When it ain't buttons, it goes to the parson; when it is, +the parson's wife gits in." + +"You 'ain't got no wife," objected Bone. + +"That's why there ain't goin' to be no buttons," sagely answered the +miner. "On the square, though, boys, this is all for the little +skeezucks, to buy some genuine milk, from Miss Doc Dennihan's goat." + +"What we goin' to put our offerings into?" asked the blacksmith, as the +boys made ready with their contributions. "They used to hand around a +pie-plate when I was a boy." + +"We'll try to get along with a hat," responded Jim, "and Keno here can +pass it 'round. I've often observed that a hat is a handy thing to +collect things in, especially brains." + +So the hat went quickly from one to another, sagging more and more in +the crown as it travelled. + +The men had come forward to surround the anvil, with the tiny little +chap upon its massive top, and not one in all the groups was there who +did not feel that, left alone with the timid bit of a pilgrim, he could +get him to talking and laughing in the briefest of moments. + +The hymns with which old Jim had promised the meeting should conclude +were all but forgotten. Two or three miners, whose hunger for song was +not to be readily appeased, kept bringing the subject to the fore +again, however, till at length they were heard. + +"We're scarin' little Skeezucks, anyhow," said the brawny smith, once +more reviving the fire in the forge. + +"Let's sing 'In the Sweet By-and-By,' if all of us know it," suggested +a young fellow scarcely more than a lad. "It's awful easy." + +"Wal, you start her bilin'," replied the teamster. + +The young fellow blushed, but he nerved himself to the point and sang +out, nervously at first, and then, when his confidence increased, in a +clear, ringing tenor of remarkable purity, recalling the old-time words +that once were so widely known and treasured: + + "'There's a land that is fairer than day, + And by faith we can see it afar, + For the Father waits over the way + To prepare us a dwelling-place there.'" + +Then the chorus of voices, husky from neglect and crude from lack of +culture, joined in the chorus, with a heartiness that shook the dingy +building: + + "'In the sweet by-and-by, + We shall meet on that beautiful shore; + In the sweet by-and-by, + We shall meet on that beautiful shore.'" + +They followed this with what they knew of "Home, Sweet Home," and so at +last strolled out into the sunshine of the street, and surrounded the +quaint little foundling, as he looked from one to another in baby +gravity and sat in his timid way on the arm of "Bruvver Jim." + +"I'll tell you what," said the blacksmith, "now that we've found that +we can do the job all right, we'll get up a Christmas for little +Skeezucks that will lift the mountains clean up off the earth!" + +"Good suggestion," Jim agreed. "But the little feller feels tired now. +I am goin' to take him home." + +And this he did. But after lunch no fewer than twenty of the men of +Borealis climbed up the trail to get another look at the quiet little +man who glorified the cabin. + +But the darkness had only begun to creep through the lowermost channels +of the canyons when Skeezucks fell asleep. By then old Jim, the pup, +and Keno were alone with the child. + +"Keno, I reckon I'll wander quietly down and see if Doc will let me buy +a little milk," said Jim. "You'd better come along to see that his +sister don't interfere." + +Keno expressed his doubts immediately, not only as to the excellence of +goat's milk generally, but likewise as to any good that he could do by +joining Jim in the enterprise suggested. + +"Anyway," he concluded, "Doc has maybe went on shift by this time. +He's workin' nights this week again." + +Jim, however, prevailed. "You don't get another bite of grub in this +shack, nor another look at the little boy, if you don't come ahead and +do your share." + +Therefore they presently departed, shutting Tintoretto in the cabin to +"watch." + +In half an hour, having interviewed Doc Dennihan himself on the +hill-side quite removed from his cabin, the two worthies came climbing +up towards their home once again, Jim most carefully holding in his +hands a large tin cup with half an inch of goat's milk at the bottom. + +While still a hundred yards from the house, they were suddenly startled +by the mad descent upon them of the pup they had recently left behind. + +"Huh! you young galoot," said Jim. "You got out, I see!" + +When he entered the cabin it was dark. Keno lighted the candle and Jim +put his cup on the table. Then he went to the berth to awaken the tiny +foundling and give him a supper of bread and milk. + +Keno heard him make a sound as of one in terrible pain. + +The miner turned a face, deadly white, towards the table. + +"Keno," he cried, "he's gone!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +OLD JIM DISTRAUGHT + +For a moment Keno failed to comprehend. Then for a second after that +he refused to believe. He ran to the bunk where Jim was desperately +turning down the blankets and made a quick examination of that as well +as of the other beds. + +They were empty. + +Hastening across the cabin, the two men searched in the berths at the +farther end with parental eagerness, but all in vain, the pup meantime +dodging between their legs and chewing at their trousers. + +"Tintoretto!" said Jim, in a flash of deduction. "He must have got out +when somebody opened the door. Somebody's been here and stole my +little boy!" + +"By jinks!" said Keno, hauling at his sleeves in excess of emotion. +"But who?" + +"Come on," answered Jim, distraught and wild. "Come down to camp! +Somebody's playin' us a trick!" + +Again they shut the pup inside, and then they fairly ran down the +trail, through the darkness, to the town below. + +A number of men were standing in the street, among them the teamster +and Field, the father of Borealis. They were joking, laughing, wasting +time. + +"Boys," cried Jim, as he hastened towards the group, "has any one seen +little Skeezucks? Some one's played a trick and took him off! +Somebody's been to the cabin and stole my little boy!" + +"Stole him?" said Field. "Why, where was you and Keno?" + +"Down to Doc's to get some milk. He wanted bread and milk," Jim +explained, in evident anguish. "You fellows might have seen, if any +one fetched him down the trail. You're foolin'. Some of you took him +for a joke!" + +"It wouldn't be no joke," answered Lufkins, the teamster. "We 'ain't +got him, Jim, on the square." + +"Of course we 'ain't got him. We 'ain't took him for no joke," said +Field. "Nobody'd take him away like that." + +"Why don't we ring the bar of steel we used for a bell," suggested one +of the miners. "That would fetch the men--all who 'ain't gone back on +shift." + +"Good idea," said Field. "But I ought to get back home and eat some +dinner." + +He did not, however, depart. That Jim was in a fever of excitement and +despair they could all of them see. He hastened ahead of the group to +the shop of Webber. and taking a short length of iron chain, which he +found on the earth, he slashed and beat at the bar of steel with +frantic strength. + +The sharp, metallic notes rang out with every stroke. The bar was +swaying like a pendulum. Blow after blow the man delivered, filling +all the hollows of the hills with wild alarm. + +Out of saloons and houses men came sauntering, or running, according to +the tension of their nerves. Many thought some house must be afire. +At least thirty men were presently gathered at the place of summons. +With five or six informers to tell the news of Jim's bereavement, all +were soon aware of what was making the trouble. But none had seen the +tiny foundling since they bade him good-bye in the charge of Jim +himself. + +"Are you plum dead sure he's went?" said Webber, the smith. "Did you +look all over the cabin?" + +"Everywhere," said Jim. "He's gone!" + +"Wal, maybe some mystery got him," suggested Bone. "Jim, you don't +suppose his father, or some one who lost him, come and nabbed him while +you was gone?" + +They saw old Jim turn pale in the light that came from across the +street. + +Keno broke in with an answer. + +"By jinks! Jim was his mother! Jim had more good rights to the little +feller than anybody, livin' or dead!" + +"You bet!" agreed a voice. + +Jim spoke with difficulty. + +"If any one did that"--he faltered--"why, boys, he never should have +let me find him in the brush." + +"Are you plum dead sure he's went?" insisted the blacksmith, whom the +news had somewhat stunned. + +"I thought perhaps you fellows might have played a joke--taken him off +to see me run around," said Jim, with a faint attempt at a smile. +"'Ain't you got him, boys--all the time?" + +"Aw, no, he'd be too scared," said Bone. "We know he'd be scared of +any one of us." + +"It ain't so much that," said Field, "but I shouldn't wonder if his +father, or some other feller just as good, came and took him off." + +"Of course his father would have the right," said Jim, haltingly, +"but--I wish he hadn't let me find him first. You fellows are sure you +ain't a-foolin'?" + +"We couldn't have done it--not on Sunday--after church," said Lufkins. +"No, Jim, we wouldn't fool that way." + +"You don't s'pose that Parky might have took him, out of spite?" said +Jim, eager for hope in any direction whatsoever. + +"No! He hates kids worse than pizen," said the barkeep, decisively. +"He's been a-gamblin' since four this afternoon, dealin' faro-bank." + +"We could go and search every shack in camp," suggested a listener. + +"What would be the good of that?" inquired Field. "If the father came +and took the little shaver, do you think he'd hide him 'round here in +somebody's cabin?" + +The blacksmith said: "It don't seem as if you could have looked all +over the house. He's such a little bit of a skeezucks." + +Keno told him how they had searched in every bunk, and how the milk was +waiting on the table, and how the pup had escaped when some one opened +the door. + +The men all volunteered to go up on the hill with torches and lanterns, +to see if the trail of the some one who had done this deed might not be +discovered. Accordingly, the lights were secured and the party climbed +the slope. All of them entered the cabin and heard the explanation of +exactly how old Jim had found that the little chap was gone. + +Webber was one of the number. To satisfy his incredulous mind, he +searched every possible and impossible lurking-place where an object as +small as a ball could be concealed. + +"I guess he's went," he agreed, at last. + +Then out on the hill-side went the crowd, and breaking up in groups, +each with its lanterns and torches, they searched the rock-strewn slope +In every direction. The wavering lights went hither and yon, revealing +now the faces of the anxious men, and then prodigious features of a +clump of granite bowlders, jewelled with mica, sparkling in the light. + +Intensely the darkness hedged the groups about. The sounds of their +voices and of rocks that crunched beneath their boots alone disturbed +the great, eternal calm; but the search was vain. The searchers had +known it could be of no avail, for the puny foot of man could have made +no track upon the slanted floor of granite fragments that constituted +the hill-side. It was something to do for Jim, and that was all. + +At length, about midnight, it came to an end. They lingered on the +slope, however, to offer their theories, invariably hopeful, and to say +that Monday morning would accomplish miracles in the way of setting +everything aright. + +Many were supperless when all save Jim and little Keno had again +returned to Borealis and left the two alone at the cabin. + +"We'll save the milk in case he might come home by any chance," said +the gray old miner, and he placed the cup on a shelf against the wall. + +In silence he cooked the humble dinner, which he placed on the table in +front of his equally voiceless companion. Keno and the pup went at the +meal with unpoetic vigor, but Jim could do no eating. He went to the +door from time to time to listen. Then he once more searched the +blankets in the bunks. + +"Wal, anyway," said he, at last, "he took his doll." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE GUILTY MISS DOC + +That Keno and Tintoretto should sleep was inevitable, after the way +they had eaten. Old Jim then took his lantern and went out alone. +Perhaps his tiny foundling had wandered away by himself, he thought. +Searching and searching, up hill and down, lighting his way through the +brush, the miner went on and on, to leave no spot unvisited. He was +out all night, wandering here and climbing there on the hillside, +pausing now and again to listen and to look about, almost expectantly, +where naught could be seen save the mighty procession of the stars, and +naught could be heard save the ringing of the inter-stellar silence as +the earth swung steadily onward in her course. + +Hour after hour of the darkness went by and found him searching still. +With the coming of the morning he suddenly grasped at a startling +thought. + +Miss Doc!--Miss Dennihan! She must have stolen his foundling! + +Her recent climb to his cabin, her protracted stay, her baffled +curiosity--these were ample explanation for the trick she must have +played! How easily she might have watched the place, slipped in the +moment the cabin was left unguarded, and carried off the little pilgrim! + +Jim knew she would glory in such a revenge. She probably cared not a +whit for the child, but to score against himself, for defeating her +purpose when she called, she would doubtless have gone to any possible +length. + +The miner was enraged, but a second later a great gush of thankfulness +and relief surged upward in his heart. At least, the little man would +not have been out all night in the hills! Then growing sick in turn, +he thought this explanation would be too good to be true. It was +madness--only a hope! He clung to it tenaciously, however, then gave +it up, only to snatch it back again in desperation as he hastened home +to his cabin. + +"Keno, wake up," he cried to his lodger, shaking him briskly by the +shoulder. "Keno! Keno!" + +"What's the matter? Time for breakfast?" asked Keno, drowsily, risking +only half an eye with which to look about. "Why not call me gently?" + +"Get up!" commanded Jim. "I have thought of where little Skeezucks has +gone!" + +"Where?" cried Keno, suddenly aroused. "I'll go and kill the cuss that +took him off!" + +"Miss Doc!" replied the miner. "Miss Doc!" + +"Miss Doc?" repeated Keno, weakly, pausing in the act of pulling on his +boots. "By jinks! Say, I couldn't kill no woman, Jim. How do you +know?" + +"Stands to reason," Jim replied, and explaining his premises rapidly +and clearly, he punched poor Keno into something almost as good as +activity. + +"By jinks! I can't believe it," said Keno, who did believe it with +fearful thoroughness. "Jim, she wouldn't dare, an' us two fellers +liable to bust her house to pieces." + +"Don't you know she'd be dead sure to play a trick like that?" said +Jim, who could not bear to listen to a doubt. "Don't you see she +couldn't do anything else, bein' a woman?" + +"Maybe--maybe," answered Keno, with a sort of acquiescence that is +deadlier than an out-and-out denial. "But--I wouldn't want to see you +disappointed, Jim--I wouldn't want to see it." + +"Wal, you come on, that's all," said Jim. "If it ain't so--I want to +know it early in the day!" + +"But--what can I do?" still objected Keno. "Wouldn't you rather I'd +stay home and git the breakfast?" + +"We don't want any breakfast if she 'ain't got the little boy. You +come on!" + +Keno came; so did Tintoretto. The three went down the slope as the sun +looked over the rim of the mountains. The chill and crispness of the +air seemed a part of those early rays of light. + +In sight of the home of Doc and Miss Dennihan, they paused and stepped +behind a fence, for the door of the neat little house was open and the +lady herself was sweeping off the steps, with the briskness inseparable +from her character. + +She presently disappeared, but the door, to Jim's relief, was left +standing open. He proceeded boldly on his course. + +"Now, I'll stay outside and hold the pup," said Keno. + +"If anything goes wrong, you let the pup go loose," instructed Jim. +"He might distract her attention." + +Thereupon he went in at the creaking little garden gate, and, leaving +it open, knocked on the door and entered the house. He had hardly more +than come within the room when Miss Doc appeared from her kitchen. + +"Mercy in us, if you ain't up before your breakfast!" she said. +"Whatever do you want in my house at this time of mornin', you Jim +lazy-joints?" + +"You know what I came for," said Jim. "I want my little boy." + +"Your little boy?" she echoed. "I never knowed you had no little boy. +You never said nuthin' 'bout no little boy when I was up to your cabin." + +Jim's heart, despite his utmost efforts to be hopeful, was sinking. + +"You know I found a little kid," he said, less aggressively. "And some +one's taken him off--stole him--that's what they've done, and I'll bet +a bit it's you!" + +"Wal, if I ever!" cried Miss Doc, her eyes lighting up dangerously. +"Did you come down here to tell me right to my face I stole from your +dirty little shanty?" + +"I want my little boy," said Jim. + +"Wal, you git out of my house," commanded Miss Doc. "If John was up +you'd never dare to stay here another minute. You clear out! +A-callin' me a thief!" + +Jim's hope collapsed in his bosom. The taking of the child he could +gladly have forgiven. Any excuse would have satisfied his +anger--anything was bearable, save to know that he had come on a false +belief. + +"Miss Doc," he said, "I only want the little kid. Don't say he ain't +here." + +"Tellin' me I'd steal!" she said, in her indignation. "You shiftless, +good-for-nothin'--" But she left her string of epithets incompleted, +all on account of an interruption in the shape of Tintoretto. + +Keno had made up his mind that everything was going wrong, and he had +loosed the pup. + +Bounding in at the door, that enthusiastic bit of awkwardness and good +intentions jumped on the front of Miss Doc's dress, gave a lick at her +hand, scooted back to his master, and wagged himself against the +tables, chairs, and walls with clumsy dexterity. Sniffing and bumping +his nose on the carpet, he pranced through the door to the kitchen. + +Almost immediately Jim heard the sound of something being bowled over +on the floor--something being licked--something vainly striving with +the over-affectionate pup, and then there came a coo of joy. + +"There he is!" cried Jim, and before Miss Doc could lift so much as +hand or voice to restrain him, he had followed Tintoretto and fallen on +his knees by the side of his lost little foundling, who was helplessly +straddled by the pup, and who, for the first time, dropped his doll as +he held out his tiny arms to be taken. + +"My little boy!" said the miner--"my little boy!" and taking both doll +and little man in his arms he held them in passionate tenderness +against his heart. + +"How da'st you come in my kitchen with your dirty boots?" demanded Miss +Dennihan, in all her unabashed pugnacity. + +"It's all right, little Skeezucks," said Jim to the timid little +pilgrim, who was clinging to his collar with all the strength of a +baby's new confidence and hope. "Did you think old brother Jim was +lost? Did you want to go home and get some bread and milk?" + +"He ain't a bit hungry. He didn't want nuthin' to eat," said Miss Doc, +in self-defence. "And you ain't no more fit to have that there child +than a--" + +"Goin' to have him all the same," old Jim interrupted, starting for the +door. "You stole him--that's what you did!" + +"I didn't do no sech thing," said the housewife. "I jest nachelly +borrowed him--jest for over night. And now you've got him, I hope +you're satisfied. And you kin jest clear out o' my house, do you hear? +And I can't scrub and sweep too soon where your lazy, dirty old boots +has been on the floor!" + +"Wal," drawled Jim, "I can't throw away these boots any too soon, +neither. I wouldn't wear a pair of boots which had stepped on any +floor of yours." + +He therefore left the house at once, even as the lady began her violent +sweeping. Interrupting Keno's mad chortles of joy at sight of little +Skeezucks, Jim gave him the tiny man for a moment's keeping, and, +taking off his boots, threw them down before Miss Dennihan's gate in +extravagant pride. + +Then once more he took his little man on his arm and started away. But +when he had walked a half-dozen rods, on the rocks that indented the +tender soles of his stockinged feet, he was stepping with gingerly +uncertainty. He presently came to a halt. The ground was not only +lumpy, it was cold. + +"I'll tell you what," he slowly drawled, "in this little world there's +about one chance in a million for a man to make a President of himself, +and about nine hundred and ninety-nine chances in a thousand for him to +make a fool of himself." + +"That's what I thought," said Keno. + +"All the same, if only I had the resolution I'd leave them boots there +forever!" + +"What for?" said Keno. + +"Wal," drawled Jim, "a man can't always tell he comes of a proud family +by the cut of his clothes. But, Keno, you ain't troubled with pride, +so you go back and fetch me the boots." + +Then, when he presently drew his cowhide casings on, he sat for a +moment enjoying the comfort of those soles beneath his feet. For the +time that they halted where they were, he held his rescued little boy +to his heart in an ecstasy such as he never had dreamed could be given +to a man. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PREPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS + +When the word spread 'round that Jim and the quaint little foundling +were once more united, the story of the episode at Miss Doc's home +necessarily followed to make the tale complete. Immensely relieved and +grateful, to know that no dire calamity had befallen the camp's first +and only child, the rough men nevertheless lost no time in conceiving +the outcome to be fairly amusing. + +"You kin bet that Doc was awake all the time, and listenin', as long as +Jim was there," said Bone, "but six yoke of oxen couldn't 'a' dragged +his two eyes open, or him out of bed, to mingle in the ceremonies." + +To prevent a recurrence of similar descents upon his household, Jim +arranged his plans in such a manner that the timid little Skeezucks +should never again be left alone. Indeed, the gray old miner hardly +ever permitted the little chap to be out of his sight. Hour by hour, +day by day, he remained at his cabin, playing with the child, telling +him stories, asking him questions, making him promises of all the +wonderful toys and playthings he would manufacture soon. + +Once in a while the little fellow spoke. That utterance came with +difficulty to his lips was obvious. He must always have been a silent, +backward little fellow, and sad, as children rarely become at an age so +tender. Of who or what he was he gave no clew. He seemed to have no +real name, to remember no parents, to feel no confidence in anything +save "Bruvver Jim" and Tintoretto. + +In the course of a week a number of names had been suggested for the +tiny bit of a stranger, but none could suit the taste of Jim. He +waited still for a truant inspiration, and meanwhile "Skeezucks" came +daily more and more into use among the men of Borealis. + +It was during this time that a parcel arrived at the cabin from the +home of Miss Doc. It was fetched to the hill by Doc himself, who said +it was sent by his sister. He departed at once, to avoid the +discussion which he felt its contents might occasion. + +On tearing it open old Jim was not a little amazed to discover a lot of +little garments, fashioned to the size of tiny Skeezucks, with all the +skill which lies--at nature's second thought--in the hand of woman. +Neat little undergarments, white little frocks, a something that the +miner felt by instinct was a "nightie," and two pairs of the smallest +of stockings rewarded the overhauling of the package, and left Jim +momentarily speechless. + +"By jinks!" said Keno, pulling down his sleeves, "them are awful small +fer us!" + +"If only I had the time," drawled Jim, "I'd take 'em back to Miss Doc +and throw them in her yard. We don't need anybody sewin' for little +Skeezucks. I was meanin' to make him somethin' better than these +myself." + +"Oh!" said Keno. "Well, we could give 'em to the pup. He'd like to +play with them little duds." + +"No; I'll try 'em on the little boy tonight," reflected Jim, "and then, +if we find they ain't a fit, why, I'll either send 'em back or cut 'em +apart and sew 'em all over and make 'em do." + +But once he had tried them on, their fate was sealed. They remained as +much a part of the tiny man as did his furry doll. Indeed, they were +presently almost forgotten, for December being well advanced, the one +great topic of conversation now was the Christmas celebration to be +held for the camp's one little child. + +Ten of the big, rough citizens had come one evening to the cabin on the +hill, to settle on some of the details of what they should do. The +tiny pilgrim, whom they all regarded so fondly, had gone to sleep and +Jim had placed him in his bunk. In the chimney a glowing fire drove +away the chill of the wintry air. + +"Speakin' of catfish, of course we'll hang up his stockin'," said +Field. "Christmas wouldn't be no Christmas without a stockin'." + +"Stockin'!" echoed the blacksmith. "We'll have to hang up a +minin'-shaft, I reckon, for to hold all the things." + +"I'm goin' to make him a kind of kaliderscope myself, or maybe two or +three," said one modest individual, stroking his chin. + +Dunn, the most unworkman-like carpenter that ever built a crooked +house, declared it was his intention to fashion a whole set of +alphabetical blocks of prodigious size and unearthly beauty. + +"Well, I can't make so much in the way of fancy fixin's, but you jest +wait and see," said another. + +The blacksmith darkly hinted at wonders evolving beneath the curly +abundance of his hair, and Lufkins likewise kept his purposes to +himself. + +"I s'pose we'd ought to have a tree," said Jim. "We could make a +Christmas-tree look like the Garden of Eden before Mrs. Adam began to +eat the ornaments." + +"That's the ticket," Webber agreed. "That's sure the boss racket of +them all." + +"We couldn't git no tree into this shanty," objected Field. "This +place ain't big enough to hold a Christmas puddin'." + +"Of course it is," said the carpenter. "It's ten foot ten by eighteen +foot six inches, or I can't do no guessin'." + +"That 'mount of space couldn't hold jest me, on Christmas," estimated +the teamster. + +"And the whole camp sure will want to come," added another. + +"'Ceptin' Miss Doc," suggested Webber. + +"'Ceptin' Miss Doc," agreed the previous speaker. + +"Then why not have the tree down yonder, into Webber's shop, same as +church?" asked Field. "We could git the whole camp in there." + +This was acclaimed a thought of genius. + +"It suits me down to the ground," said Jim, with whom all ultimate +decision lay, by right of his foster-parenthood of little Skeezucks, +"only I don't see so plain where we're goin' to git the tree. We're +burnin' all the biggest brush around Borealis, and there ain't a +genuine Christmas-tree in forty miles." + +The truth of this observation fell like a dampened blanket on all the +company. + +"That's so," said Webber. "That's just the luck!" + +"There's a bunch of willers and alders by the spring," suggested a +hopeful person. + +"You pore, pitiful cuss," said Field. "You couldn't have seen no +Christmas-tree in all your infancy." + +"If only I had the time," drawled Jim, "I'd go across to the Pinyon +mountains and git a tree. Perhaps I can do that yet." + +"If you'd do that, Jim, that would be the biggest present of the lot," +said Webber. "You wouldn't have to do nuthin' more."' + +"Wal, I'm goin' to make a Noah's ark full of animals, anyway," said +Jim. "Also a few cars and boats and a big tin horn--if only I've got +the activity." + +"But we'll reckon on you for the tree," insisted the blacksmith. +"Then, of course, we want a great big Christmas dinner." + +"What are you goin' to do fer a turkey?" inquired Field. + +"And rich brown gravy?" added the carpenter. + +"And cranberry sauce and mince-pie?" supplemented Lufkins. + +"Well, maybe we could git a rabbit for the turkey," answered the smith. + +"And, by jinks! I kin make a lemon-pie that tastes like a chunk +dropped out of heaven," volunteered Keno, pulling at his sleeves. + +"But what about that rich brown gravy?" queried the carpenter. + +"Smoky White can dish up the slickest dough-nuts you ever slapped your +lip onto," informed the modest individual who stroked his chin. + +"We can have pertatoes and beans and slapjacks on the side," a hopeful +miner reminded the company. + +"You bet. Don't you worry; we can trot out a regular banquet," Field +assured them, optimistically. "S'posen we don't have turkey and +cranberry sauce and a big mince-pie?" + +"I'd like that rich brown gravy," murmured the carpenter--"good and +thick and rich and brown." + +"We could rig up a big, long table in the shop," planned the +blacksmith, "and put a hundred candles everywhere, and have the tree +all blazin' with lights, and you bet things would be gorgeous." + +"If we git the tree," said Lufkins. + +"And the rabbit fer a turkey," added a friend. + +"Well, by jinks! you'll git the lemon-pie all right, if you don't git +nuthin' else," declared little Keno. + +"If only I can plan it out I'll fetch the tree," said Jim. "I'd like +to do that for the little boy." + +"Jim's an awful clever ole cuss," said Field, trusting to work some +benefit by a judicious application of flattery. "It ain't every man +which knows the kind of a tree to chop. Not all trees is +Christmas-trees. But ole Jim is a clever ole duck, you bet." + +"Wal," drawled Jim, "I never suspect my own intelligence till a man +begins to tell me I'm a clever old duck. Still, I reckon I ain't +over-likely to cut no cherry-trees over to the Pinyon hills." + +"The celebration's comin' to a head in bully style, that's the main +concern," said the teamster. "I s'pose we'd better begin to invite all +the boys?" + +"If all of 'em come," suggested a listener, "that one jack-rabbit +settin' up playin' turkey will look awful sick." + +"I'd hate to git left on the gravy," added the carpenter--"if there's +goin' to be any gravy." + +"Aw, we'll have buckets of grub," said the smith. "We'll ask 'em all +to 'please bring refreshments,' same as they do in families where they +never git a good square meal except at surprise-parties and birthday +blow-outs. Don't you fear about the feed." + +"Well, we ought to git the jig to goin'," suggested Field. "Lots of +the boys needs a good fair warnin' when they're goin' to tackle cookin' +grub for a Christmas dinner. I vote we git out of here and go down +hill and talk the racket up." + +This motion was carried at once. The boys filed out with hearty +good-nights, and wended their way down the slope, with the bite of the +frosted air at their ears. + +Then Jim, at the very thought of travelling forty miles to fetch a tree +for Christmas gayeties, sat down before his fire to take a rest. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +TROUBLES AND DISCOVERIES + +For the next ten days the talk of the camp was the coming celebration. +Moreover, man after man was surrounding himself with mystery +impenetrable, as he drew away in his shell, so to speak, to undergo +certain throes of invention and secret manufacture of presents for the +tiny boy at the cabin on the hill. Knowing nods, sly winks, and +jealous guarding of their cleverness marked the big, rough fellows one +by one. And yet some of the most secretive felt a necessity for +consulting Jim as to what was appropriate, what would please little +Skeezucks, and what was worthy to be tied upon the tree. + +That each and every individual thus laboring to produce his offering +should be eager to excel his neighbor, and to win the greatest +appreciation from the all-unknowing little pilgrim for his own +particular toy or trinket, was a natural outcome of the Christmas +spirit actuating the manoeuvres. And all the things they could give +would have to be made, since there was not a shop in a radius of a +hundred miles where baubles for youngsters could be purchased, while +Borealis, having never had a baby boy before in all its sudden annals +of being, had neglected all provision for the advent of tiny Skeezucks. + +The carpenter came to the cabin first, with a barley-sack filled with +the blocks he had made for the small foundling's Christmas ecstasy. +Before he would show them, however, Keno was obliged to leave the house +and the tiny pilgrim himself was placed in a bunk from which he could +not see. + +"I want to surprise him," explained the carpenter. + +He then dumped out his blocks. + +As lumber was a luxury in Borealis, he had been obliged to make what +shift he could. In consequence of this the blocks were of several +sizes, a number were constructed of several pieces of board nailed +together--and split in the process--no two were shaped alike, except +for generalities, and no one was straight. However, they were larger +than a man's two fists, they were gaudily painted, and the alphabet was +sprinkled upon them with prodigal generosity. There were even +hieroglyphics upon them, which the carpenter described as birds and +animals. They were certainly more than any timid child could ever have +demanded. + +"Them's it," said Dunn, watching the face of Jim with what modest pride +the situation would permit. "Now, what I want you to do is to give me +a genuine, candid opinion of the work." + +"Wal, I'll tell you," drawled the miner, "whenever a man asks you for a +candid opinion, that's the time to fill your shovel with guff. It's +the only safe proceedin'. So I won't fool around with candid opinions, +Dunn, I'll just admit they are jewels. Cut my diamonds if they ain't!" + +"I kind of thought so myself," confessed the carpenter. "But I thought +as you was a first-class critic, why, I'd like to hear what you'd say." + +"No, I ain't no critic," Jim replied. "A critic is a feller who can +say nastier things than anybody else about things that anybody else can +do a heap sight better than he can himself." + +"Well, I do reckon, as who shouldn't say so, that nobody livin' into +Borealis but me could 'a' made them blocks," agreed Dunn, returning the +lot to his sack. "But I jest wanted to hear you say so, Jim, fer you +and me has had an eddication which lots of cusses into camp 'ain't +never got. Not that it's anything agin 'em, but--you know how it is. +I'll bet the little shaver will like them better'n anything else he'll +git." + +"Oh, he'll like 'em in a different way," agreed the miner. "No doubt +about that." + +And when the carpenter had gone old Jim took his little foundling from +the berth and sat him on his knee. + +In the tiny chap's arms the powder-flask-and-potato doll was firmly +held. The face of the lady had wrinkled with a premature descent of +age upon her being. One of her eyes had disappeared, while her +soot-made mouth had been wiped across her entire countenance. + +The quaint bit of a boy was dressed, as usual, in the funny little +trousers that came to his heels, while his old fur cap had been kept in +requisition for the warmth it afforded his ears. He cuddled +confidingly against his big, rough protector, but he made no sound of +speaking, nor did anything suggestive of a smile come to play upon his +grave little features. + +Jim had told him of Christmas by the hour--all the beauty of the story, +so old, so appealing to the race of man, who yearns towards everything +affording a brightness of hope and a faith in anything human. + +"What would little Skeezucks like for his Christmas?" the man inquired, +for the twentieth time. + +The little fellow pressed closer against him, in baby shyness and +slowly answered: + +"Bruv-ver--Jim." + +The miner clasped him tenderly against his heart. Yet he had but +scanty intimation of the all the tiny pilgrim meant. + +He sat with him throughout that day, however, as he had so many of +these fleeting days. The larder was neglected; the money contributed +at "church" had gone at once, to score against a bill at the store, as +large as the cabin itself, and only the labors of Keno, chopping brush +for fuel, kept the home supplied even with a fire. Jim had been born +beneath the weight of some star too slow to move along. + +When Keno came back to the cabin from his work in the brush it was well +along in the afternoon. Jim decided to go below and stock up the +pantry with food. On arriving at the store, however, he met a new +manner of reception. + +The gambler, Parky, was in charge, as a recent purchaser of the whole +concern. + +"You can't git no more grub-stake here without the cash," he said to +Jim. "And now you've come, you can pony up on the bill you 'ain't yet +squared." + +"So?" said Jim. + +"You bet your boots it's so, and you can't begin to pungle up a minute +too soon!" was the answer. + +"I reckon you'd ask a chicken to pungle up the gravel in his gizzard if +you thought he'd picked up a sliver of gold," Jim drawled, in his lazy +utterance. "And an ordinary chicken, with the pip thrown in, could +pungle twice to my once." + +"Ain't got the stuff, hey?" said Parky. "Broke, I s'pose? Then maybe +you'll git to work, you old galoot, and stop playin' parson and +goody-goody games. You don't git nothing here without the chink. So +perhaps you'll git to work at last." + +A red-nosed henchman of the gambler's put in a word. + +"I don't see why you 'ain't gone to work," he said. + +"Don't you?" drawled Jim, leaning on the counter to survey the speaker. +"Well, it looks to me as if you found out, long ago, that all work and +no play makes a man a Yankee." + +"I ain't no Yankee, you kin bet on that!" said the man. + +"That's pretty near incredible," drawled Jim. + +"And I ain't neither," declared the gambler, who boasted of being +Canadian. "Don't you forget that, old boy." + +"No," Jim slowly replied, "I've often noticed that all that glitters +ain't American." + +"Well, you can clear out of here and notice how things look outside," +retorted Parky. + +Jim was slowly straightening up when the blacksmith and the teamster +entered the place. They had heard the gambler's order and were +thoroughly astounded. No man, howsoever poor and unprepared to pay a +wretched bill, had ever been treated thus in Borealis before. + +"What's the matter?" said Webber. + +"Nuthin', particularly," answered Jim, in his slow, monotonous way, +"only a difference of opinion. Parky thinks he's brainy, and a +gentleman--that's all." + +"I can see you don't git another snack of grub in here, my friend," +retorted Parky, adding a number of oaths. "And for just two cents I'd +break your jaw and pitch you out in the street." + +"Not with your present flow of language," answered Jim. + +The teamster inquired, "Why don't Jim git any more grub?" + +"Because I'm running this joint and he 'ain't got the cash," said +Parky. "You got anything to say about the biz?" + +"Jim's got a call on me and my cash," replied the brawny Webber. "Jim, +you tell him what you need, and I'll foot the bill." + +"I'll settle half, myself," added Lufkins. + +"Thanks, boys, not this evenin'," said Jim, whose pride had singular +moments for coming to the surface. "There's only one time of day when +it's safe to deal with a gambler, and that's thirteen o'clock." + +"I wouldn't sell you nothing, anyway," said Parky, with a swagger. "He +couldn't git grub here now for no money--savvy?" + +"I wonder why you call it grub, now that it's come into your greasy +hands!" drawled the miner, as he slowly started to leave the store. +"I'd be afraid you'd deal me a dirty ace of spades instead of a decent +slice of bacon." And, hands in pockets, he sauntered away, vaguely +wondering what he should do. + +The blacksmith hung for a moment in the balance of indecision, rapidly +thinking. Then he followed where the gray old Jim had gone, and +presently overtook him in the road. + +"Jim," he said, "what about poor little Skeezucks? Say, I'll tell you +what we'll do: I'll wait a little, and then send Field to the store and +have him git whatever you need, and pretend it's all for himself. Then +we'll lug it up the hill and slide it into the cabin slick as a lead +two-bits." + +"Can't let you do it," said Jim. + +"Why not?" demanded Webber. + +Jim hesitated before he drawled his reply. + +"If only I had the resolution," said he, "I wouldn't take nothing that +Parky could sell." + +"When we git you once talkin' 'if-only,' the bluff is called," replied +the smith, with a grin. "Now what are you needin' at the shack?" + +"You rich fellers want to run the whole shebang," objected Jim, by way +of an easy capitulation. "There never yet was a feller born with a +silver spoon in his mouth that didn't want to put it in every other +feller's puddin'. . . . I was goin' to buy a can or two of condensed +milk and a slab of bacon and a sack of flour and a bean or two and a +little 'baccy, and a few things about like that." + +"All right," said the blacksmith, tabulating all these items on his +fingers. "And Field kin look around and see if there ain't some extrys +for little Skeezucks." + +"If only I had the determination I wouldn't accept a thing from Parky's +stock," drawled the miner, as before. "I'll go to work on the claim +and pay you back right off." + +"Kerrect," answered Webber, as gravely as possible, thinking of the +hundred gaudy promises old Jim had made concerning his undeveloped and +so far worthless claim. "I hope you'll strike it good and rich." + +"Wal," drawled Jim; "bad luck has to associate with a little good luck +once in a while, to appear sort of half-way respectable. And my +luck--same as any tired feller's--'ain't been right good Sunday-school +company for several years." + +So he climbed back up the hill once more, and, coming to his cabin, had +a long, earnest look at the picks, bars, drills, and other implements +of mining, heavy with dust, in the corner. + +"If only the day wasn't practically gone," said he, "I'd start to work +on the claim this afternoon." + +But he touched no tools, and presently instead he took the grave little +foundling on his knee and told him, all over, the tales the little +fellow seemed most to enjoy. + +When the stock of provisions was finally fetched to the house by Webber +himself, the worthy smith was obliged to explain that part of the money +supplied to Field for the purchase of the food had been confiscated for +debt at the store. In consequence of this the quantity had been cut to +a half its intended dimensions. + +"And the worst of it is," said the blacksmith, in conclusion, "we all +owe a little at the store, and Parky's got suspicious that we're +sneakin' things to you." + +Indeed, as he left the house, he saw that certain red-nosed microbe of +a human being attached to the gambler, spying on his visit to the hill. +Stopping for a moment to reflect upon the nearness of Christmas and the +needless worry that he might inflict by informing Jim of his discovery, +Webber shook his head and went his way, keeping the matter to himself. + +But with food in the house old Jim was again at ease, so much so, +indeed, that he quite forgot to begin that promised work upon his +claim. He had never worked except when dire necessity made resting no +longer possible, and then only long enough to secure the wherewithal +for sufficient food to last him through another period of sitting +around to think. If thinking upon subjects of no importance whatsoever +had been a lucrative employment, Jim would certainly have accumulated +the wealth of the whole wide world. + +He took his pick in his hands the following day, but placed it again in +its corner, slowly, after a moment's examination of its blunted steel. + +Three days went by. The weather was colder. Bitter winds and frowning +clouds were hastening somewhere to a conclave of the wintry elements. +It was four days only to Christmas. Neither the promised Noah's ark to +present to tiny Skeezucks nor the Christmas-tree on which the men had +planned to hang their gifts was one whit nearer to realization than as +if they had never been suggested. + +Meantime, once again the food-supply was nearly gone. Keno kept the +pile of fuel reasonably high, but cheer was not so prevalent in the +cabin as to ask for further room. The grave little pilgrim was just a +trifle quieter and less inclined to eat. He caught a cold, as tiny as +himself, but bore its miseries uncomplainingly. In fact, he had never +cried so much as once since his coming to the cabin; and neither had he +smiled. + +In sheer concern old Jim went forth that cold and windy afternoon of +the day but four removed from Christmas, to make at least a show of +working on his claim. Keno, Skeezucks, and the pup remained behind, +the little red-headed man being busily engaged in some great culinary +mystery from which he said his lemon-pie for Christmas should evolve. + +When presently Jim stood beside the meagre post-hole he had made once +upon a time, as a starter for a mining-shaft, he looked at it ruefully. +How horridly hard that rock appeared! What a wretched little scar it +was he had made with all that labor he remembered so vividly! What was +the good of digging here? Nothing! + +Dragging his pick, he looked for a softer spot in which to sink the +steel. There were no softer spots. And the pick helve grew so +intensely cold! Jim dropped it to the ground, and with hands thrust +into his armpits, for the warmth afforded, he hunched himself dismally +and scanned the prospect with doleful eyes. Why couldn't the hill +break open, anyhow, and show whether anything worth the having were +contained in its bulk or not? + +A last summer's mullen stock, beating incessantly in the wind, seemed +the only thing alive on all that vast outbulging of the earth. The +stunted brush stiffly carded the breeze that blew so persistently. + +From rock to rock the gray old miner's gaze went wandering. So +undisturbed had been the surface of the earth since he had owned the +claim that a shallow channel, sluiced in the earth by a freshet of the +spring long past, remained as the waters had cut it. Slowly up the +course of this insignificant cicatrice old Jim ascended, his hands +still held beneath his arms, his long mustache and his grizzled beard +blown awry in the breeze. The pick he left behind. + +Coming thus to a deeper gouge in the sand of the hill, he halted and +gazed attentively at a thick seam of rock outcropping sharply where the +long-gone freshet had laid it bare. In mining parlance it was +"quartzy." To Jim it appeared even more. He stooped above it and +attempted to break away a fragment with his fingers. At this he +failed. Rubbing off the dust and sand wherewith old mother nature was +beginning to cover it anew, he saw little spots, at which he scratched +with his nails. + +"Awful cold it's gittin'," he drawled to himself, and sitting down on +the meagre bank of earth he once more thrust his hands beneath his coat +and looked at the outcropping dismally. + +He had doubtless been gone from the cabin half an hour, and not a +stroke had he given with his pick, when, as he sat there looking at the +ground, the voice of Keno came on the wind from the door of the shack. +Arising, Jim started at once towards his home, leaving his pick on the +hill-side a rod or two below. + +"What is it?" he called, as he neared the house. + +"Calamerty!" yelled Keno, and he disappeared within the door. + +Jim almost made haste. + +"What kind of a calamity?" said he, as he entered the room. "What's +went wrong?" + +"The lemon-pie!" said Keno, whose face was a study in the art of +expressing consternation. + +"Oh," said Jim, instantly relieved, "is that all?" + +"All?" echoed Keno. "By jinks! I can't make another before it's +Christmas, to save my neck, and I used all the sugar and nearly all the +flour we had." + +"Is it a hopeless case?" inquired Jim. + +"Some might not think so," poor Keno replied. "I scoured out the old +Dutch oven and I've got her in a-bakin', but--" + +"Well, maybe she ain't so worse." + +"Jim," answered Keno, tragically, "I didn't find out till I had her +bakin' fine. Then I looked at the bottle I thought was the lemon +extract, and, by jinks! what do you think?" + +"I don't feel up to the arts of creatin' lemon-pies," confessed the +miner, warming himself before the fire. "What happened?" + +"You have to have lemon extract--you know that?" said Keno. + +"All right." + +"Well, by jinks, Jim, it wasn't lemon extract after all! It was +hair-oil!" + +A terrible moment of silence ensued. + +Then Jim said, "Was it all the hair-oil I had?" + +"Every drop," said Keno. + +"Wal," drawled the miner, sagely, "don't take on too hard. Into each +picnic some rain must fall." + +"But the boys won't eat it," answered Keno, inconsolably. + +"You don't know," replied Jim. "You never can tell what people will +eat on Christmas till the follerin' day. They'll take to anything that +looks real pretty and smells seasonable. What did I do with my pick?" + +"You must have left it behind," said Keno. "You ain't goin' to hit the +pie with your pick?" + +"Wal, not till Christmas, anyway, Keno, and only then in case we've +busted all the knives and saws trying to git it apart," said Jim, +reassuringly. + +"Would you keep it, sure, and feed it to 'em all the same?" inquired +Keno, forlornly, eager for a ray of hope. + +"I certainly would," replied the miner. "They won't know the diff +between a lemon-pie and a can of tomatoes. So I guess I'll go and git +my pick. It may come on to snow, and then I couldn't find it till the +spring." + +Without the slightest intention of working any more, Jim sauntered back +to the place where the pick was lying on the hill and took it up. By +chance he thought of the ledge of quartz above in the rain-sluiced +channel. + +"Might as well hit her a lick," he drawled to himself, and climbing to +the spot he drove the point of his implement into a crevice of the rock +and broke away a piece of two or three pounds in weight. This he took +in his big, red hands, which were numbing in the cold. + +For a moment he looked at the fragment of quartz with unbelieving eyes. +He wet it with his tongue. Then a something that answered in Jim to +excitement pumped from his heart abruptly. + +The rock was flecked all through with tiny specks of metal that the +miner knew unerringly. + +It was gold. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE MAKING OF A CHRISTMAS-TREE + +Despite the snow that fell that night, despite the near approach of +Christmas, old Jim's discovery aroused a great excitement in the camp. +That very evening the news was known throughout all Borealis, and all +next day, in the driving storm, the hill was visited, the ledge was +viewed, and the topic was discussed at length in all its amazing +features. + +Teamsters, miners, loiterers--all, even including the gambler--came to +pay their homage at the hiding-place of one of Mammon's family. All +the mountain-side was taken up in claims. The calmest man in all the +hills was Jim himself. + +Parky made him an offer without the slightest hesitation. + +"I'll square off your bill at the store," he said, "and give you a +hundred dollars' worth of grub for the claim and prospect just as she +stands." + +"Not to-day," old Jim replied. "I never do no swapping at the other's +feller's terms when I'm busy. We've got to get ready for Christmas, +and you don't look to me like Santy Claus hunting 'round for lovely +things to do." + +"Anyway, I'll send up a lot of grub," declared the gambler, with a +wonderful softening of the heart. "I was foolin'--just havin' a +joke--the last time you was down to the store. You know you can have +the best we've got in the deck." + +"Wal, I 'ain't washed the taste of your joke clean out of my mouth just +yet, so I won't bother you to-day," drawled Jim; and with muttered +curses the gambler left, determined to have that ledge of gold-bearing +rock, let the cost be what it might. + +"I guess we'll have to quit on that there Christmas-tree," said the +blacksmith, who was present with others at the cabin. "Seems you +didn't have time to go to the Pinyon hills and fetch one back." + +"If only I hadn't puttered 'round with the work on the claim," said +Jim, "we might have had that tree as well as not. But I'll tell you +what we can do. We can cut down the alders and willows at the spring, +and bind a lot together and tie on some branches of mountain-tea and +make a tree. That is, you fellers can, for little Skeezucks ain't +a-feelin' right well to-day, and I reckon I'll stay close beside him +till he spruces up." + +"What about your mine?" inquired Lufkins. + +"It ain't agoin' to run away," said the old philosopher, calmly. "I'll +let it set there for a few more days, as long as I can't hang it up on +the tree. It's just my little present to the boy, anyhow." + +If anything had been needed to inject new enthusiasm into the plans for +a Christmas celebration or to fire anew the boyhood in the men, the +find of gold at Jim's very door would have done the trick a dozen times +over. + +With hearts new-created for the simple joys of their labor, the big +rough fellows cut the meagre growth of leafless trees at the spring in +the small ravine, and gathered evergreen mountain-tea that grew in +scrawny clusters here and there on the mountains. + +Armful after armful of this, their only possible material, they carried +to the blacksmith's shop below, and there wrought long and hard and +earnestly, tying together the wisps of green and the boughs and trunks +of tender saplings. + +Four of the stalks, the size of a lady's wrist, they fastened together +with twisted wire to form the main support, or body, of their tree, To +this the reconstructed, enlarged, and strengthened branches were +likewise wired. Lastly, the long, green spikes of the mountain shrub +were tied on, in bunches, like so many worn-out brooms. The tree, when +completed and standing in its glory in the shop, was a marvellous +creation, fully as much like a fir from the forest as a hair-brush is +like a palm. + +Then began the scheme of its decoration. One of the geniuses broke up +countless bottles, for the red and green glass they afforded, and, +tying the pieces in slings of cord, hung them in great profusion from +the tree's peculiar arms. From the ceiling of his place of business, +Bone, the barkeep, cut down a fluffy lot of colored paper, stuck there +in a great rosette, and with this he added much original beauty to the +pile. Out of cigar-boxes came a great heap of bright tin-foil that +went on the branches in a way that only men could invent. + +The carpenter loaded the structure with his gaudy blocks. The man who +had promised to make a "kind of kaliderscope" made four or five instead +of one. They were white-glass bottles filled with painted pebbles, +buttons, dimes, chopped-up pencils, scraps of shiny tin, and anything +or everything that would lend confusion or color to the bottle's +interior as the thing was rolled about or shaken in the hands. These +were so heavy as to threaten the tree's stability. Therefore, they had +to be placed about its base on the floor. + +The blacksmith had made a lot of little axes, shovels, picks, and +hammers, all of which had been filed and polished with the greatest +care and affectionate regard for the tiny man whose tree and Christmas +all desired to make the finest in the world. + +The teamster had evolved, from the inside lining of his winter coat, a +hybrid duck-dog-bear that he called a "woolly sheep." + +One of the men had whittled out no less than four fat tops, all ringed +with colors and truly beautiful to see, that he said were the best he +had ever beheld, despite the fact that something was in them that +seemed to prevent them from spinning. + +Another old fellow brought a pair of rusty skates which were large +enough for a six-foot man. He told of the wonderful feats he had once +performed on the ice as he hung them on the tree for little Skeezucks. + +The envy of all was awakened, however, by Field, the father of the +camp, who fetched a drum that would actually make a noise. He had +built this wonder out of genuine sheep-skin, stretched over both of the +ends of a bright tin can of exceptional size, from which he had eaten +the contents solely with the purpose in view of procuring the metal +cylinder. + +There were wooden animals, cut-out guns, swords and daggers, +wagons--some of them made with spools for wheels--a sled on which the +paint was still wet, and dolls suspiciously suggestive of +potato-mashers and iron spoons, notwithstanding their clothing. There +were balls of every size and color, coins of gold and silver, and books +made up of pasted pictures, culled for the greater part from cans of +peaches, oysters, tomatoes, lobsters, and salmon. + +Nearly every man had fashioned something, and hardly anything had been +left unpainted. The clumsy old "boys" of the town had labored with +untold patience to perfect their gifts. Their earnestness over the +child and the day was a beautiful thing to see. Never were presents +more impressive as to weight. The men had made them splendidly strong. + +The gifts had been ticketed variously, many being marked "For Little +Skeezucks," but by far the greatest number bore the inscription: "For +Bruvver Jim's Baby--Merry Christmas." + +The tree, by the time the things had been lashed upon its branches, +needed propping and guying in every direction. The placing of big, +white candles upon it, however, strained the skill and self-control of +the men to the last degree. If a candle prefers one set of antics to +another, that set is certainly embodied in the versatile schemes for +lopping over, which the wretched thing will develop on the +best-behaving tree in the world. On a home-made tree the opportunities +for a candle's enjoyment of this, its most diverting of +accomplishments, are increased remarkably. The day was cold, but the +men perspired from every pore, and even then the night came on before +the work was completed. + +When at length they ceased their labors for the day, there was still +before them the appalling task of preparing the Christmas banquet. + +In the general worry incident to all such preparations throughout the +world, Parky, the gambler, fired an unexpected shot. He announced his +intention of giving the camp a grand celebration of his own. The +"Palace" saloon would be thrown wide open for the holiday, and food, +drink, music, and dancing would be the order of the memorable occasion. + +"It's a game to knock our tree and banquet into a cocked hat," said the +blacksmith, grimly. "Well--he may get some to come, but none of old +Jim's friends or the fellers which likes little Skeezucks is goin' to +desert our own little festival." + +Nevertheless, the glitter of the home-made tree in the dingy shop was +dimmed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THEIR CHRISTMAS-DAY + +The day before Christmas should, by right of delights about to blossom, +be nearly as happy as the sweet old carnival itself, but up at the +cabin on the hill it was far from being joyous. + +The tiny mite of a foundling was not so well as when his friends had +left him on the previous afternoon. + +He was up and dressed, sitting, in his grave little way, on the miner's +knee, weakly holding his crushed-looking doll, but his cold had +increased, his sweet baby face was paler, the sad, dumb look in his +eyes was deeper in its questioning, the breakfast that the fond old Jim +had prepared was quite untasted. + +"He ain't agoin' to be right down sick, of course?" said the +blacksmith, come to report all the progress made. "Natchelly, we'd +better go on, gittin' ready fer the banquet? He'll be all right fer +to-morrow?" + +"Oh yes," said Jim. "There never yet was a Christmas that wouldn't get +a little youngster well. He'll come to the tree, you bet. It's goin' +to be the happiest time he ever had." + +Outside, the red-headed Keno was chopping at the brush. The weather +was cold and windy, the sky gray and forbidding. When the smith had +gone, old Jim, little Skeezucks, and the pup were alone. Tintoretto, +the joyous, was prancing about with a boot in his jaws. He stumbled +constantly over its bulk, and growled anew at every interference with +his locomotion. + +"Does little pardner like the pup?" said Jim, patting the sick little +man on the back with his clumsy but comforting hand. "Do you want him +to come here and play?" + +The wee bit of a parentless, deserted boy slowly shook his head. + +"Don't you like him any more?" said Jim. + +A weak little nod was the answer. + +"Is there anything the baby wants?" inquired the miner, tenderly. +"What would little Skeezucks like?" + +For the very first time since his coming to the camp the little +fellow's brown eyes abruptly filled with tears. His tiny lip began to +tremble. + +"Bruv-ver Jim," he said, and, leaning against the rough old coat of the +miner, he cried in his silent way of passionate longing, far too deep +in his childish nature for the man to comprehend. + +"Poor little man ain't well," said Jim, in a gentle way of soothing. +"Bruvver Jim is here all right, and goin' to stay," and, holding the +quiet little figure to his heart, he stood up and walked with him up +and down the dingy cabin's length, till the shaking little sobs had +ceased and the sad little man had gone to sleep. + +All day the miner watched the sleeping or the waking of the tiny +pilgrim. The men who came to tell of the final completion of the tree +and the greater preparations for the feast were assured that the one +tiny guest for whom their labors of love were being expended would +surely be ready to enjoy the celebration. + +The afternoon gave way to night in the manner common to wintry days. +From time to time a gust of wind tore the fleece from the clouds and +hurled it in snow upon the silent earth. Dimly the lights of the +cabins shone through the darkness and the chill. + +At the blacksmith's shop the wind went in as if to warm itself before +the forge, only to find it chill and black, wherefore it crept out +again at the creaking door. A long, straight pencil of snow was flung +through a chink, across the earthen floor and against the swaying +Christmas-tree, on which the, presents, hanging in readiness for little +Skeezucks, beat out a dull, monotonous clatter of tin and wood as they +collided in the draught. + +The morning--Christmas morning--broke with one bright gleam of +sunlight, shining through the leaden banks before the cover of clouds +was once more dropped upon the broken rim of mountains all about. + +Old Jim was out of his bunk betimes, cooking a breakfast fit, he said, +"to tempt a skeleton to feast." + +True to his scheme of ensnaring the gray old miner in an idleness with +regard to his mine which should soon prove a fatal mistake, Parky, the +gambler, had sent a load of the choicest provisions from the store to +the cabin on the hill. Only too glad of the daintier morsels thus +supplied for his ailing little guest, old Jim had made but feeble +protest when the things arrived, and now was preparing a meal from the +nicest of the packages. + +Little Skeezucks, however, waked in a mood of lethargy not to be +fathomed by mere affection. Not only did he turn away at the mere +suggestion of eating, but he feebly hid his face and gave a little moan. + +"He ain't no better," Jim announced, putting down a breakfast-dish with +its cargo quite untasted. "I wish we had a little bit of medicine." + +"What kind?" said the worried Keno. + +"It wouldn't make much difference," answered the miner. "Anything is +medicine that a doctor prescribes, even if it's only sugar-and-water." + +"But there ain't a doctor into camp," objected Keno, hauling at his +sleeves. "And the one they had in Bullionville has went away, and he +was fifty miles from here." + +"I know," said Jim. + +"You don't think he's sick?" inquired Keno, anxiously. + +Jim looked long at his tiny foundling dressed in the nightie that came +below his feet. A dull, heavy look was in the little fellow's eyes, +half closed and listless. + +"He ain't no better," the miner repeated. "I don't know what to do." + +Keno hesitated, coughed once or twice, and stirred the fire fiercely +before he spoke again. Then he said, "Miss Doc is a sort of female +doctor. She knows lots of female things." + +"Yes, but she can't work 'em off on the boy," said Jim. "He ain't big +enough to stand it." + +"No, I don't suppose he is," agreed Keno, going to the window, on which +he breathed, to melt away the frosty foliage of ice. "I think there's +some of the boys a-comin'--yep--three or four." + +The boots of the men could be heard, as they creaked on the crisply +frozen snow, before the visitors arrived at the door. Keno let them +in, and with them an oreole of chill and freshness flavored spicily of +winter. There were three--the carpenter, Bone, and Lufkins. + +"How's the little shaver?" Bone inquired at once. + +"About the same," said Jim. "And how's the tree?" + +"All ready," answered Lufkins. "Old Webber's got a bully fire, and +iron melting hot, to warm the shop. The tree looks great. She's all +lit up, and the doors all shut to make it dark, and you bet she's a +gem--a gorgeous gem--ain't she, fellers?" + +The others agreed that it was. + +"And the boys are nearly all on deck," resumed the teamster, "and +Webber wanted to know if the morning--Christmas morning--ain't the time +for to fetch the boy." + +"Wal, some might think so," Jim replied, unwilling to concede that the +tiny man in the bunk was far too ill to join in the cheer so early in +the day. "But the afternoon is the regular parliamentary time, and, +anyway, little Skeezucks 'ain't had his breakfast, boys, and--we want +to be sure the shop is good and warm." + +"The boys is all waitin' fer to give three cheers," said the carpenter, +"and we're goin' to surprise you with a Christmas song called 'Massa's +in the Cole, Cole Ground.'" + +"Shut up!" said Bone; "you're givin' it all away. So you won't bring +him down this mornin'?" + +"Well, we'll tell 'em," agreed the disappointed Lufkins. "What time do +you think you'll fetch the little shaver, then, this afternoon?" + +"I guess about twelve," said Jim. + +"How's he feelin'?" inquired the carpenter. + +"Wal, he don't know how to feel on Christmas yet," answered the miner, +evasively. "He doesn't know what's a-comin'." + +"Wait till he sees them blocks," said the carpenter, with a knowing +wink. + +"I ain't sayin' nothin'," added Lufkins, with the most significant +smile, "but you jest wait." + +"Nor me ain't doin' any talkin'," said Bone. + +"Well, the boys will all be waitin'," was the teamster's last remark, +and slowly down the whitened hill they went, to join their fellows at +the shop of the smith. + +The big, rough men did wait patiently, expectantly, loyally. Blowing +out the candles, to save them for the moment when the tiny child should +come, they sat around, or stood about, or wandered back and forth, each +togged out in his very best, each with a new touch of Christmas meaning +in his heart. + +Behind the tree a goodly portion of the banquet was in readiness. +Keno's pie was there, together with a mighty stack of doughnuts, plates +on plates of pickles, cans of fruit preserves, a mighty pan of cold +baked beans, and a fine array of biscuits big as a man's two fists. +From time to time the carpenter, who had saved up his appetite for +nearly twenty-four hours, went back to the table and feasted his eyes +on the spread. At length he took and ate a pickle. From that, at +length, his gaze went longingly to Keno's pie. How one little pie +could do any good to a score or so of men he failed to see. At last, +in his hunger, he could bear the temptation no longer. He descended on +the pie. But how it came to be shied through the window, practically +intact, half a moment later, was never explained to the waiting crowd. + +By the time gray noon had come across the mountain desolation to the +group of little shanties in the snow, old Jim was thoroughly alarmed. +Little Skeezucks was helplessly lying in his arms, inert, breathing +with difficulty, and now and again moaning, as only a sick little mite +of humanity can. + +"We can't take him down," said the miner, at last. "He ought to have a +woman's care." + +Keno was startled; his worry suddenly engulfed him. + +"What kin we do?" he asked, in helplessness. + +"Miss Doc's a decent woman," answered Jim, in despair. "She might know +what to do." + +"You couldn't bring yourself to that?" asked Keno, thoroughly amazed. + +"I could bring myself to anything," said Jim, "if only my little boy +could be well and happy." + +"Then you ain't agoin' to take him down to the tree?" + +"How can I?" answered Jim. "He's awful sick. He needs something more +than I can give. He needs--a mother. I didn't know how sick he was +gettin'. He won't look up. He couldn't see the tree. He can't be +like the most of little kids, for he don't even seem to know it's +Christmas." + +"Aw, poor little feller!" said Keno. "Jim, what we goin' to do?" + +"You go down and ask Miss Doc if I can fetch him there," instructed +Jim. "I think she likes him, or she wouldn't have made his little +clothes. She's a decent woman, and I know she's got a heart. Go on +the run! I'm sorry I didn't give in before." + +The fat little Keno ran, in his shirt-sleeves, and without his hat. + +Jim was afraid the motionless little foundling was dying in his arms. +He could presently wait no longer, either for Keno's return or for +anything else. He caught up two of the blankets from the bed, and, +wrapping them eagerly, swiftly about the moaning little man, left his +cabin standing open and hastened down the white declivity as fast as he +could go, Tintoretto, with puppy whinings of concern, closely tagging +at his heels. + +Lufkins, starting to climb once more to the cabin, beheld him from +afar. With all his speed he darted back to the blacksmith-shop and the +tree. + +"He coming!" he cried, when fifty yards away. "Light the +candles--quick!" + +In a fever of joy and excitement the rough fellows lighted up their +home-made tree. The forge flung a largess of heat and light, as red as +holly, through the gloom of the place. All the men were prepared with +a cheer, their faces wreathed with smiles, in a new sort of joy. But +the moments sped away in silence and nothing of Jim and the one small +cause of their happiness appeared. Indeed, the gray old miner was at +Dennihan's already. Keno had met him on the hill with an eager cry +that welcome and refuge were gladly prepared. + +With her face oddly softened by the news and appeal, Miss Doc herself +came running to the gate, her hungry arms outstretched to take the +child. + +"Just make him well," was Jim's one cry. "I know a woman can make him +well." + +And all afternoon the men at the blacksmith's-shop kept up their hope. +Keno had come to them, telling of the altered plans by which little +Skeezucks had found his way to Miss Doc, but by special instruction he +added that Jim was certain that improvement was coming already. + +"He told me that evenin' is the customary hour fer to have a tree, +anyhow," concluded Keno, hopefully. "He says he was off when he said +to turn it loose at noon." + +"Does he think Miss Doc can git the little feller fixed all up to +celebrate to-night?" inquired Bone. "Is that the bill of fare?" + +"That's about it," said Keno, importantly. "I'm to come and let you +know when we're ready." + +Impatient for the night to arrive, excited anew, when at last it closed +in on the world of snow and mountains, the celebrators once more +gathered at the shop and lighted up their tree. The wind was rushing +brusquely up the street; the snow began once more to fall. From the +"Palace" saloon came the sounds of music, laughter, song, and revelry. +Light streamed forth from the window in glowing invitation. All day +long its flow of steaming drinks and its endless succession of savory +dishes had laded the air with temptation. + +Not a few of the citizens of Borealis had succumbed to the gayer +attractions of Parky's festival, but the men who had builded a +Christmas-tree and loaded its branches with presents waited and waited +for tiny Skeezucks in the dingy shop. + +The evening passed. Night aged in the way that wintry storm and +lowering skies compel. Dismally creaked the door on its rusted hinges. +Into the chink shot the particles of snow, and formed again that icy +mark across the floor of the shop. One by one the candles burned away +on the tree, gave a gasp, a flare, and expired. + +Silently, loyally the group of big, rough miners and toilers sat in the +cheerless gloom, hearing that music, in its soullessness, come on the +gusts of the storm--waiting, waiting for their tiny guest. + +At length a single candle alone illumined their pitiful tree, standing +with its meagre branches of greenery stiffly upheld on its scrawny +frame, while the darkness closed sombrely in upon the glint of the toys +they had labored to make. + +Then finally Keno came, downcast, pale, and worried. + +"The little feller's awful sick," he said. "I guess he can't come to +the tree." + +His statement was greeted in silence. + +"Then, maybe he'll see it to-morrow," said the blacksmith, after a +moment. "It wouldn't make so very much odds to us old cusses. +Christmas is for kids, of course. So we'll leave her standing jest as +she is." + +Slowly they gave up their final hopes. Slowly they all went out in the +storm and night, shutting the door on the Christmas celebration now +abandoned to darkness, the creak of the hinges, the long line of snow +inside that pointed to the tree. + +One by one they bade good-night to Webber, the smith, and so went home +to many a cold little cabin, seemingly hunched like a freezing thing in +the driving storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +"IF ONLY I HAD THE RESOLUTION" + +For the next three or four days the tiny bit of a man at Miss Doc's +seemed neither to be worse nor better of his ailment. The hand of +lethargy lay with dulling weight upon him. Old Jim and Miss Dennihan +were baffled, though their tenderness increased and their old animosity +disappeared, forgotten in the stress of care. + +That the sister of Doc could develop such a spirit of motherhood +astounded nearly every man in the camp. Accustomed to acerbities of +criticism for their many shortcomings from her ever-pointed tongue, +they marvelled the more at her semi-partnership with Jim, whom of all +the population of the town she had scorned and verbally castigated most +frequently. + +Resupplying their tree with candles, the patient fellows had kept alive +their hope of a great day of joy and celebration, only to see it +steadily receding from their view. At length they decided to carry +their presents to the house where the wan little foundling lay, +trusting the sight of their labors of love might cheer him to recovery. + +To the utter amazement of her brother, Miss Doc not only permitted the +big, rough men to track the snow through her house, when they came with +their gifts, but she gave them kindly welcome. In her face that day +they readily saw some faint, illusive sign of beauty heretofore +unnoticed, or perhaps concealed. + +"He'll come along all right," she told them, with a smile they found to +be singularly sweet, "for Jim do seem a comfort to the poor little +thing." + +Old Jim would surely have been glad to believe that he or anything +supplied a comfort to the grave little sick man lying so quietly in +bed. The miner sat by him all day long, and far into every night, only +climbing to his cabin on the hill when necessity drove him away. Then +he was back there in the morning by daylight, eager, but cheerful +always. + +The presents were heaped on the floor in sight of the pale little +Skeezucks, who clung unfailingly, through it all, to the funny +makeshift of a doll that "Bruvver Jim" had placed in his keeping. He +appeared not at all to comprehend the meaning of the gifts the men had +brought, or to know their purpose. That never a genuinely happy +Christmas had brightened his little, mysterious life, Miss Dennihan +knew by a swift, keen process of womanly intuition. + +"I wisht he wasn't so sad," she said, from time to time. "I expect +he's maybe pinin'." + +On the following day there came a change. The little fellow tossed in +his bed with a fever that rose with every hour. With eyes now burning +bright, he scanned the face of the gray old miner and begged for +"Bruvver Jim." + +"This is Bruvver Jim," the man assured him repeatedly. "What does baby +want old Jim to do?" + +"Bruv-ver--Jim," came the half-sobbed little answer. "Bruv-ver--Jim." + +Jim took him up and held him fast in his arms. The weary little mind +had gone to some tragic baby past. + +"No-body--wants me--anywhere," he said. + +The heart in old Jim was breaking. He crooned a hundred tender +declarations of his foster-parenthood, of his care, of his wish to be a +comfort and a "pard." + +But something of the fever now had come between the tiny ears and any +voice of tenderness. + +"Bruv-ver--Jim; Bruv-ver--Jim," the little fellow called, time and time +again. + +With the countless remedies which her lore embraced, the almost +despairing Miss Doc attempted to allay the rising fever. She made +little drinks, she studied all the bottles in her case of simples with +unremitting attention. + +Keno, the always-faithful, was sent to every house in camp, seeking for +anything and everything that might be called a medicine. It was all of +no avail. By the time another day had dawned little Skeezucks was +flaming hot with the fever. He rolled his tiny body in baby delirium, +his feeble little call for "Bruvver Jim" endlessly repeated, with his +sad little cry that no one wanted him anywhere in the world. + +In his desperation, Jim was undergoing changes. His face was haggard; +his eyes were ablaze with parental anguish. + +"I know a shrub the Injuns sometimes use for fever," he said to Miss +Doc, at last, when he suddenly thought of the aboriginal medicine. "It +grows in the mountains. Perhaps it would do him good." + +"I don't know," she answered, at the end of her resources, and she +clasped her hands. "I don't know." + +"If only I can git a horse," said Jim, "I might be able to find the +shrub." + +He waited, however, by the side of the moaning little pilgrim. + +Then, half an hour later, Bone, the bar-keep, came up to see him, in +haste and excitement. They stood outside, where the visitor had called +him for a talk. + +"Jim," said Bone, "you're in fer trouble. Parky is goin' to jump your +claim to-night--it bein' New Year's eve, you know--at twelve o'clock. +He told me so himself. He says you 'ain't done assessment, nor you +can't--not now--and you 'ain't got no more right than anybody else to +hold the ground. And so he's meanin' to slap a new location on the +claim the minute this here year is up." + +"Wal, the little feller's awful sick," said Jim. "I'm thinkin' of +goin' up in the mountains for some stuff the Injuns sometimes use for +fever." + +"You can't go and leave your claim unprotected," said Bone. + +"How did Parky happen to tell you his intentions?" said Jim. + +"He wanted me to go in with him," Bone replied, flushing hotly at the +bare suggestion of being involved in a trick so mean. "He made me +promise, first, I wouldn't give the game away, but I've got to tell it +to you. I couldn't stand by and see you lose that gold-ledge now." + +"To-morrow is New Year's, sure enough," Jim replied, reflectively. +"That mine belongs to little Skeezucks." + +"But Parky's goin' to jump it, and he's got a gang of toughs to back +him up." + +"I'd hate to lose it, Bone. It would seem hard," said Jim. "But I +ought to go up in the hills to find that shrub. If only I had a horse. +I could go and git back in time to watch the claim." + +Bone was clearly impatient. + +"Don't git down to the old 'if only' racket now," he said, with heat. +"I busted my word to warn you, Jim, and the claim is worth a fortune to +you and little Skeezucks." + +Jim's eyes took on a look of pain. + +"But, Bone, if he don't git well," he said--"if he don't git well, +think how I'd feel! Couldn't you get me a horse? If only--" + +"Hold on," interrupted Bone, "I'll do all I kin for the poor little +shaver, but I don't expect I can git no horse. I'll go and see, but +the teams has all got the extry stock in harness, fer the roads is +mighty tough, and snow, down the cañon, is up to the hubs of the +wheels. You've got to be back before too late or your claim goes up, +fer, Jim, you know as well as me that Parky's got the right of law!" + +"If only I could git that shrub," said Jim, as his friend departed, and +back to the tossing little man he went, worried to the last degree. + +Bone was right. The extra horses were all in requisition to haul the +ore to the quartz-mill through a stretch of ten long miles of drifted +snow. Moreover, Jim had once too often sung his old "if-only" cry. +The men of Borealis smiled sadly, as they thought of tiny Skeezucks, +but with doubt of Jim, whose resolutions, statements, promises, had +long before been estimated at their final worth. + +"There ain't no horse he could have," said Lufkins, making ready +himself to drive his team of twenty animals through wind and snow to +the mill, "and even if we had a mule, old Jim would never start. It's +comin' on to snow again to-night, and that's too much for Jim." + +Bone was not at once discouraged, but in truth he believed, with all +the others, that Jim would no more leave the camp to go forth and +breast the oncoming snow to search the mountains for a shrub than he +would fetch a tree for the Christmas celebration or work good and hard +at his claim. + +The bar-keep found no horse. He expected none to be offered, and felt +his labors were wasted. The afternoon was well advanced when he came +again to the home of Miss Doc, where Jim was sitting by the bed whereon +the little wanderer was burning out his life. + +"Jim," he said, in his way of bluntness, "there ain't no horse you can +git, but I warned you 'bout the claim, and I don't want to see you lose +it, all fer nothin'." + +"He's worse," said Jim, his eyes wildly blazing with love for the +fatherless, motherless little man. "If only I had the resolution, +Bone, I'd go and git that shrub on foot." + +"You'd lose yer claim," said Bone. + +Miss Doc came out to the door where they stood. She was wringing her +hands. + +"Jim," she said, "if you think you kin, anyhow, git that Injun stuff, +why don't you go and git it?" + +Jim looked at her fixedly. Not before had he known that she felt the +case to be so nearly hopeless. Despair took a grip on his vitals. A +something of sympathy leaped from the woman's heart to his--a something +common to them both--in the yearning that a helpless child had stirred. + +"I'll get my hat and go," he said, and he went in the house, to appear +almost instantly, putting on the battered hat, but clothed far too +thinly for the rigors of the weather. + +"But, Jim, it's beginning to snow, right now," objected Bone. + +"I may get back before it's dark," old Jim replied. + +"I can see you're goin' to lose the claim," insisted Bone. + +"I'm goin' to git that shrub!" said Jim. "I won't come back till I git +that shrub." + +He started off through the gate at the back of the house, his long, +lank figure darkly cut against the background of the white that lay +upon the slope. A flurry of blinding snow came suddenly flying on the +wind. It wrapped him all about and hid him in its fury, and when the +calmer falling of the flakes commenced he had disappeared around the +shoulder of the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE GOLD IN BOREALIS + +The men to whom the bar-keep told the story of Jim and his start into +the mountains smiled again. The light in their eyes was half of +affection and half of concern. They could not believe the shiftless +old miner would long remain away in the snow and wind, where more than +simple resolution was required to keep a man afoot. They would see him +back before the darkness settled on the world, perhaps with something +in his hand by way of a weed, if not precisely the "Injun" thing he +sought. + +But the darkness came and Jim was not at hand. The night and the snow +seemed swirling down together in the gorge, from every lofty uprise of +the hills. It was not so cold as the previous storm, yet it stung with +its biting force. + +At six o'clock the blacksmith called at the Dennihans', in some +anxiety. Doc himself threw open the door, in response to the knock. +How small and quiet he appeared, here at home! + +"No, he 'ain't showed up," he said of Jim. "I don't know when he'll +come." + +Webber reported to the boys. + +"Well, mebbe he's gone, after all," said Field. + +"He looked kind of funny 'round the eyes when he started," Bone +informed them. "I hope he'll git his stuff," and they wandered down +the street again. + +At eight o'clock the bar-keep returned once more to Miss Doc's. + +No Jim was there. The sick little foundling was feebly calling in his +baby way for "Bruvver Jim." + +The fever had him in its furnace. Restlessly, but now more weakly +weaving, the tiny bit of a man continued as ever to cling to his doll, +which he held to his breast with all that remained of his strength. It +seemed as if his tired baby brain was somehow aware that Jim was gone, +for he begged to have him back in a sweet little way of entreaty, +infinitely sad. + +"Bruvver Jim?" he would say, in his questioning little voice--"Bruvver +Jim?" And at last he added, "Bruvver Jim--do--yike--'ittle Nu--thans." + +At this Miss Doc felt her heart give a stroke of pain, for something +that was almost divination of things desolate in the little fellow's +short years of babyhood was granted to her woman's understanding. + +"Bruvver Jim will come," she said, as she knelt beside the bed. "He'll +come back home to the baby." + +But nine o'clock and ten went by, and only the storm outside came down +from the hills to the house. + +Hour after hour the lamp was burning in the window as a beacon for the +traveller; hour after hour Miss Dennihan watched the fever and the +weary little fellow in its toils. At half-past ten the blacksmith, the +carpenter, and Kew came, Tintoretto, the pup, coldly trembling, at +their heels. Jim was not yet back, and the rough men made no +concealment of their worry. + +"Not home?" said Webber. "Out in the hills--in this?" + +"You don't s'pose mebbe he's lost?" inquired the carpenter. + +"No, Jim knows his mountains," replied the smith, "but any man could +fall and break his leg or somethin'." + +"I wisht he'd come," said Miss Doc. "I wisht that he was home." + +The three men waited near the house for half an hour more, but in vain. +It was then within an hour of midnight. Slowly, at last, they turned +away, but had gone no more than half a dozen rods when they met the +bar-keep, Doc Dennihan, Lufkins the teamster, and four other men of the +camp, who were coming to see if Jim had yet returned. + +"I thought he mebbe hadn't come," said Bone, when Webber gave his +report, "but Parky's goin' to try to jump his claim at twelve o'clock, +and we ain't goin' fer to stand it! Come on down to my saloon fer +extry guns and ammunition. We're soon goin' up on the hill to hold the +ledge fer Jim and the poor little kid." + +With ominous coupling of the gambler's name with rough and emphatic +language, the ten men marched in a body down the street. + +The wind was howling, a door of some deserted shed was dully, +incessantly slamming. + +Helplessly Miss Dennihan sat by the bed whereon the tiny pilgrim lay, +now absolutely motionless. The fever had come to its final stage. Dry +of skin, burning through and through, his little mouth parched despite +the touch of cooling water on his lips, the wee mite of a man without a +name, without a home, or a mother, or a single one of the baby things +that make the little folks so joyous, had ceased to struggle, and +ceased at last to call for "Bruvver Jim." + +Then, at a quarter-past eleven, the outside door was suddenly thrown +open, and in there staggered Jim, a haggard, wild-eyed being, ghastly +white, utterly exhausted, and holding in his hand a wretched, scrawny +branch of the mountain shrub he had gone to seek. + +"Oh, Jim! Jim!" cried Miss Doc, and, running forward, she threw her +arm around his waist to keep him up, for she thought he must fall at +every step, + +"He's--alive?" he asked her, hoarsely. "He's alive? I only asked to +have him wait! Hot water!--get the stuff in water--quick!" and he +thrust the branch into her hand. + +Beside the bed, on his great, rough knees, he fairly fell, crooning +incoherently, and by a mighty effort keeping his stiff, cold hands from +the tiny form. + +Miss Doc had kept a plate of biscuit warm in the stove. One of these +and a piece of meat she gave to the man, bidding him eat it for the +warmth his body required. + +"Fix the shrub in the water," he begged. + +"It's nearly ready now," she answered. "Take a bite to eat." + +Then, presently, she came again to his side. "I've got the stuff," she +said, awed by the look of anguish on the miner's face, and into his +hands she placed a steaming pitcher, a cup, and a spoon, after which +she threw across his shoulders a warm, thick blanket, dry and +comforting. + +Already the shrub had formed a dark, pungent liquor of the water poured +upon it. Turning out a cupful in his haste, old Jim flowed the +scalding stuff across his hands. It burned, but he felt no pain. The +spoonful that he dipped from the cup he placed to his own cold lips, to +test. He blew upon it as a mother might, and tried it again. + +Then tenderly he fed the tea through the dry little lips. Dully the +tiny man's unseeing eyes were fixed on his face. + +"Take it, for old Bruvver Jim," the man gently coaxed, and spoonful +after spoonful, touched every time to his own mouth first, to try its +heat, he urged upon the little patient. + +Then Miss Doc did a singular thing. She put on a shawl and, abruptly +leaving the house, ran with all her might down the street, through the +snow, to Bone's saloon. For the very first time in her life she +entered this detested place, a blazing light of joy in her eyes. Six +of the men, about to join the four already gone to the hill above, +where Jim had found the gold, were about to leave for the claim. + +"He's come!" cried Miss Doc. "He's home--and got the weed! I thought +you boys would like to know!" + +Then backing out, with a singular smile upon her face, she hastened to +return to her home with all the speed the snow would permit. + +Alone in the house with the silent little pilgrim, who seemed beyond +all human aid, the gray old miner knew not what he should do. The +shrub tea was failing, it seemed to him. The sight of the drooping +child was too much to be borne. The man threw back his head as he +knelt there on the floor, and his stiffened arms were appealingly +uplifted in prayer. + +"God Almighty," he said, in his broken voice of entreaty, "don't take +this little boy away from me! Let him stay. Let him stay with me and +the boys. You've got so many little youngsters there. For Christ's +sake, let me have this one!" + +When Miss Doc came quietly in, old Jim had not apparently moved. He +was once more dipping the pungent liquor from the cup and murmuring +words of endearment and coaxing, to the all-unhearing little patient. +The eager woman took off her shawl and stood behind him, watching +intently. + +"Oh, Jim!" she said, from time to time--"oh, Jim!" + +With a new supply of boiling water, constantly heated on her stove, she +kept the steaming concoction fresh and hot. + +Midnight came. The New Year was blown across those mighty peaks in +storm and fury. Presently out of the howling gale came the sound of +half a dozen shots, and then of a fusillade. But Jim, if he heard +them, did not guess the all they meant to him. + +For an hour he had only moved his hands to take the pitcher, or to put +it down, or to feed the drink to the tiny foundling, still so +motionless and dull with the fever. + +One o'clock was finally gone, and two, and three. Jim and the yearning +Miss Doc still battled on, like two united parents. + +Then at last the miner made a half-stifled sound in his throat. + +"You--can go and git a rest," he said, brokenly. "The sweat has come." + + +All night the wind and the storm continued. All through the long, long +darkness, the bitter cold and snow were searching through the hills. +But when, at last, the morning broke, there on the slope, where old +Jim's claim was staked, stood ten grim figures, white with snow, and +scattered here and there around the ledge of gold. They were Bone and +Webber, Keno and Field, Doc Dennihan, the carpenter, the teamster, and +other rough but faithful men who had guarded the claim against invasion +in the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ARRIVALS IN CAMP + +There is something fine in a party of men when no one brags of a fight +brought sternly to victory. + +Parky, the gambler, was badly shot through the arm; Bone, the bar-keep, +had a long, straight track through his hair, cleaned by a ball of lead. +And this was deemed enough of a story when the ten half-frozen men had +secured the claim to Jim and his that New-Year's morning. + +But the camp regretted on the whole that, instead of being shelved at +his house, the gambler had not been slain. + +For nearly a week the wan little foundling, emerging from the vale of +shadows at the home of Miss Dennihan, lay as if debating, in his grave, +baby way, the pros and cons of existence. And even when, at last, he +was well on the road to recovery, he somehow seemed more quiet than +ever before. + +The rough old "boys" of the town could not, by any process of their +fertile brains, find an adequate means of expressing their relief and +delight when they knew at last the quaint little fellow was again +himself. + +They came to Miss Dennihan's in groups, with brand-new presents and +with wonderful spirits. They played on the floor like so many +well-meaning bears; they threatened to fetch their poor, neglected +Christmas-tree from the blacksmith-shop; they urged Miss Doc to start a +candy-pull, a night-school, a dancing-class, and a game of +blindman's-buff forthwith. Moreover, not a few discovered traces of +beauty and sweetness in the face of the formerly plain, severe old +maid, and slyly one or two began a species of courtship. + +On all their manoeuvres the little convalescent looked with grave +curiosity. Such antics he had surely never seen. Pale and silent, as +he sat on Jim's big knee one evening, he watched the men intently, +their crude attempts at his entertainment furnishing an obvious puzzle +to his tiny mind. Then presently he looked with wonder and awe at the +presents, unable to understand that all this wealth of bottles, cubes, +tops, balls, and wagons was his own. + +The carpenter was spelling "cat" and "dog" and "Jim" with the blocks, +while Field was rolling the balls on the floor and others were +demonstrating the beauties and functions of kaleidoscopes and endless +other offerings; but through it all the pale little guest of the camp +still held with undiminished fervor to the doll that Jim had made when +first he came to Borealis. + +"We'd ought to git up another big Christmas," said the blacksmith, +standing with his arms akimbo. "He didn't have no holidays worth a +cent." + +"We could roll 'em all into one," suggested Field--"Christmas, New +Year's, St. Valentine's, and Fourth of July." + +"What's the matter with Washington's birthday?" Bone inquired. + +"And mine?" added Keno, pulling down his sleeves. "By jinks! it comes +next week." + +"Aw, you never had a birthday," answered the teamster. "You was jest +mixed up and baked, like gingerbread." + +"Or a lemon pie," said the carpenter, with obvious sarcasm. + +"Wal, holidays are awful hard for some little folks to digest," said +Jim. "I'm kind of scared to see another come along." + +"I should think to-night is pretty near holiday enough," said the +altered Miss Doc. "Our little boy has come 'round delightful." + +"Kerrect," said Bone. "But if us old cusses could see him sort of +laughin' and crowin' it would do us heaps of good." + +"Give him time," said the teamster. "Some of the sickenest crowin' I +ever heard was let out too soon." + +The carpenter said, "You jest leave him alone with these here blocks +for a day or two, if you want to hear him laugh." + +"'Ain't we all laughed at them things enough to suit you yit?" inquired +Bone. "Some people would want you to laugh at their funeral, I reckon." + +"Wal, laughin' ain't everything there is worth the havin'," Jim +drawled. "Some people's laughin' has made me ashamed, and some has +made me walk with a limp, and some has made me fightin' mad. When +little Skeezucks starts it off--I reckon it's goin' to make me a boy +again, goin' in swimmin' and eatin' bread-and-molasses." + +For the next few days, however, Jim and the others were content to see +the signs of returning baby strength that came to little Skeezucks. +That the clearing away of the leaden clouds, and the coming of beauty +and sunshine, pure and dazzling, had a magical effect upon the tiny +chap, as well as on themselves, the men were all convinced. And the +camp, one afternoon, underwent a wholly novel and unexpected sensation +of delight. + +A man, with his sweet, young wife and three small, bright-faced +children, came driving to Borealis. With two big horses steaming in +the crystal air and blowing great, white clouds of mist from their +nostrils, with wheels rimmed deeply by the snow between the spokes, +with colored wraps and mittened hands, and three red worsted caps upon +the children's heads, the vision coming up the one straight street was +quite enough to warm up every heart in town. + +The rig drew up in front of the blacksmith-shop, and twenty men came +walking there to give it welcome. + +"Howdy, stranger?" said the blacksmith, as he came from his forge, +bareheaded, his leathern apron tied about his waist, his sleeves rolled +up, and his big, hairy arms akimbo. "Pleasant day. You're needin' +somethin' fixed, I see," and he nodded quietly towards a road-side job +of mending at the doubletree, which was roughly wrapped about with rope. + +"Yes. Good-morning," said the driver of the rig, a clear-eyed, +wholesome-looking man of clerical appearance. "We had a little +accident. We've come from Bullionville. How long do you think it will +take you to put us in shape?" + +The smith was looking at the children. + +Such a trio of blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked, unalarmed little girls had +never before been seen in Borealis; and they all looked back at him and +the others with the most engaging frankness. + +"Well, about how far you goin'?" said the smith, by way of answer. + +"To Fremont," replied the stranger. "I'm a preacher, but they thought +they couldn't support a church at Bullionville," he added, with a look, +half mirth, half worry, in his eyes. "However, a man from Fremont +loaned us the horses and carriage, so we thought we'd move before the +snow fell any deeper. I'd like to go on without great delay, if the +mending can be hastened." + +"Your off horse needs shoein'," said Webber, quickly scanning every +detail of the animals and vehicle with his practised eye. "It's a long +pull to Fremont. I reckon you can't git started before the day after +tomorrow." + +To a preacher who had found himself superfluous, the thought of the +bill of expenses that would heap up so swiftly here in Borealis was +distressing. He was poor; he was worried. Like many of the miners, he +had worked at a claim that proved to be worthless in the end. + +"I--hoped it wouldn't take so long," he answered, slowly, "but then I +suppose we shall be obliged to make the best of the situation. There +are stables where I can put up the horses, of course?" + +"You kin use two stalls of mine," said the teamster, who liked the +looks of the three little girls as well as those of the somewhat shy +little mother and the preacher himself. "Boys, unhitch his stock." + +Field, Bone, and the carpenter, recently made tender over all of +youngster-kind, proceeded at once to unfasten the harness. + +"But--where are we likely to find accommodations?" faltered the +preacher, doubtfully. "Is there any hotel or boarding-house in camp?" + +"Well, not exactly--is there, Webber?" replied the teamster. "The +boardin'-house is over to the mill--the quartz-mill, ten miles down the +canon." + +"But I reckon they could stop at Doc's," replied the smith, who had +instantly determined that three bright-eyed little girls in red worsted +caps should not be permitted to leave Borealis without a visit first to +Jim and tiny Skeezucks. "Miss Doc could sure make room, even if Doc +had to bunk up at Jim's. One of you fellers jest run up and ask her, +quick! And, anyway," he added, "Mr. Preacher, you and the three little +girls ought to see our little boy." + +Field, who had recently developed a tender admiration for the +heretofore repellent Miss Doc, started immediately. + +He found old Jim and the pup already at the house where the tiny, pale +little Skeezucks still had domicile. Quickly relating the news of the +hour, the messenger delivered his query as to room to be had, in one +long gasp of breath. + +Miss Doc flushed prettily, to think of entertaining a preacher and his +family. The thought of the three little girls set her heart to beating +in a way she could not take the time to analyze. + +"Of course, they kin come, and welcome," she said. "I'll give 'em all +a bite to eat directly, but I don't jest see where I'll put so many. +If John and the preacher could both go up on the hill with you, Jim, I +'low I could manage." + +"Room there for six," said Jim, who felt some singular stirring of +excitement in his veins at the thought of having the grave little +foundling meet three other children here in the camp. "I'd give him a +bunk if Keno and me had to take to the floor." + +"All right, I'll skedaddle right back there, lickety-split, and let 'em +know," said Field. "I knowed you'd do it, Miss Doc," and away he went. + +By the time he returned to the blacksmith-shop the horses were gone to +the stable, and all the preacher's family and all their bundles were +out of the carriage. What plump-legged, healthy, inquisitive +youngsters those three small girls appeared as they stood there in the +snow. + +"All right!" said Field, as he came to the group, where everybody +seemed already acquainted and friendly. "Fixed up royal, and ye're all +expected right away." + +"We couldn't leave the little gals to walk," said the blacksmith. +"I'll carry this one myself," and, taking the largest of the children +in his big, bare arms, he swung her up with a certain gesture of +yearning not wholly under control. + +"And I'll--" + +"And I'll--" came quickly from the group, while six or eight big +fellows suddenly jostled each other in their haste to carry a +youngster. There being but two remaining, however, only two of the men +got prizes, and Field felt particularly injured because he had earned +such an honor, he felt, by running up to Doc's to make arrangements. +He and several others were obliged to be contented with the bundles, +not a few of which were threatened with destruction in the eagerness of +all to be of use. + +But presently everything was adjusted, and, deserting the carriage, the +shop, and everything else, the whole assemblage moved in procession on +the home of the Dennihans. + +A few minutes later little Skeezucks, Jim, and the pup--all of them +looking from the window of the house--saw those three small caps of +red, and felt that New-Year's day had really come at last. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +SKEEZUCKS GETS A NAME + +When the three small girls, so rosy of cheek and so sparkling of eye, +confronted the grave little pilgrim he could only gaze upon them with +timid yearning as he clung to his doll and to old "Bruvver Jim." There +never had been in all his life a vision so beautiful. Old Jim himself +was affected almost as much as the quaint, wee man so quietly standing +at his side. Even Tintoretto was experiencing ecstasies heretofore +unknown in his youthful career. + +Indeed, no one could have determined by any known system of calculation +whether Jim or tiny Skeezucks or the pup most enjoyed the coming of the +preacher and his family. Old Jim had certainly never before undergone +emotions so deeply stirring. Tintoretto had never before beheld four +youngsters affording such a wealth of opportunity for puppy-wise +manoeuvres; indeed, he had never before seen but one little playfellow +since his advent in the world. He was fairly crazed with optimism. As +for Skeezucks--starving for even so much as the sight of children, +hungering beyond expression for the sound of youngster voices, for the +laughter and over-bubblings of the little folk with whom by rights he +belonged--nothing in the way of words will ever tell of the almost +overpowering excitement and joy that presently leaped in his lonely +little heart. + +Honesty is the children's policy. There was nothing artificial in the +way those little girls fell in love with tiny Skeezucks; and with +equally engaging frankness the tiny man instantly revealed his fondness +for them all. + +They were introduced as Susie and Rachie and Ellie. Their other name +was Stowe. This much being soon made known, the three regarded their +rights to the house, to little Skeezucks, and to Tintoretto as +established. They secured the pup by two of his paws and his tail, +and, with him thus in hand, employed him to assist in surrounding tiny +Skeezucks, whom they promptly kissed and adopted. + +"Girls," said the father, mildly, "don't be rude." + +"They're all right," drawled Jim, in a new sort of pleasure. "There +are some kinds of rudeness a whole lot nicer than politeness." + +"What's his name?" said Susie, lifting her piquant little face up to +Jim, whom all the Stowe family had liked at once. "Has he got any +name?" + +In a desperate groping for his inspiration, Jim thought instantly of +all his favorites--Diogenes, Plutarch, Endymion, Socrates, Kit Carson, +and Daniel Boone. + +"Wal, yes. His name--" and there old Jim halted, while "Di" and "Plu" +and "Indy" and "Soc" all clamored in his brain for the honor. "His +name--I reckon his name is Carson Boone." + +"Little Carson," said Rachie. "Isn't Carson a sweet little boy, mammy? +What's he got--a rabbit?" + +"That's his doll," said Jim. + +"Oh, papa, look!" said Rachie. + +"Oh, papa, look!" echoed Susie. + +"Papa, yook!" piped Ellie, the youngest, who wanted the dolly for +herself, and, therefore, hauled at it lustily. + +The others endeavored to prevent her depredations. Between them they +tore the precious creation from the hands of the tiny man, and released +the pup, who immediately leaped up and fastened a hold on the doll +himself, to the horror of the preacher, Miss Doc, old Jim, Mrs. Stowe, +and Skeezucks, all of whom, save the newly christened little Carson, +pounced upon the children, the doll, and Tintoretto, with one accord. +And there is nothing like a pounce upon a lot of children or a pup to +make folks well acquainted. + +Her "powder-flask" ladyship being duly rescued, her raiment smoothed, +and her head readjusted on her body, the three small, healthy girls +were perpetually enjoined from another such exhibition of coveting +their neighbor's doll, whereupon all conceived that new diversion must +be forthwith invented. + +"You can have a lot of fun with all them Christmas presents in the +corner," Jim informed them, in the great relief he felt himself to see +the quaint little foundling once more in undisputed possession of his +one beloved toy. "They 'ain't got any feelin's." + +Miss Doc had carefully piled the presents in a tidy pyramid against the +wall, in the corner designated, after which she had covered the pile +with a sheet. This sheet came off in a hurry. The pup filled his +mouth with a yard of the white material, and, growling in joy, shook it +madly and raced away with it streaming in his wake. Miss Doc and Mrs. +Stowe gave chase immediately. Tintoretto tripped at once, but even +when the women had caught the sheet in their hands he hung on +prodigiously, and shook the thing, and growled and braced his weight +against their strength, to the uncontainable delight of all the little +Stowe contingent. + +Then they fell on the presents, to which they conveyed little Carson, +in the intimate way of hugging in transit that only small mothers-to-be +have ever been known to develop. + +"Oh, papa, look at the funny old bottle!" said Susie, taking up one of +the "sort of kaliderscopes" in her hand. + +"Papa, mamma, look!" added Rachie. + +"Papa--yook!" piped Ellie, as before, laying violent hands of +possession on the toy. + +"You can have it," said Susie; "I'm goin' to have the red wagon." + +"Oh, papa, look at the pretty red wagon!", said Rachie, dropping +another of the kaleidoscopes with commendable promptness. + +"Me!--yed yaggon!" cried Ellie. + +"Children, children!" said the preacher, secretly amused and +entertained. "Don't you know the presents all belong to little Carson?" + +"Well, we didn't get anything but mittens and caps," said Rachie, in +the baldest of candor. + +"Go ahead and enjoy the things," instructed Jim. "Skeezucks, do you +want the little girls to play with all the things?" + +The little fellow nodded. He was happier far than ever he had been in +all his life. + +"But they ought to play with one thing at a time, and not drop one +after another," said the mild Mrs. Stowe, blushing girlishly. + +"I like to see them practise at changin' their minds," drawled the +miner, philosophically. "I'd be afraid of a little gal that didn't +begin to show the symptoms." + +But all three of the bright-eyed embryos of motherhood had united on a +plan. They sat the grave little Carson in the red-painted wagon, with +his doll held tightly to his heart, and began to haul him about. + +Tintoretto, who had dragged off an alphabetical block, was engrossed in +the task of eating off and absorbing the paint and elements of +education, with a gusto that savored of something that might and might +not have been ambition. He abandoned this at once, however, to race +beside or behind or before the wagon, and to help in the pulling by +laying hold of any of the children's dresses that came most readily +within reach of his jaws. + +The ride became a romp, for the pup was barking, the wheels were +creaking, and the three small girls were crying out and laughing at the +tops of their voices. They drew their royal coach through every room +in the house--which rooms were five in number--and then began anew. + +Back and forth and up and down they hastened, the pup and tiny +Skeezucks growing more and more delighted as their lively little +friends alternately rearranged him, kissed him, crept on all fours +beside him, and otherwise added adornments to the pageant. In an +outburst of enthusiasm, Tintoretto made a gulp at the off hind-wheel of +the wagon, and, sinking his teeth in the wood thereof, not only +prevented its revolutions, but braced so hard that the smallest girl, +who was pulling at the moment, found herself suddenly stalled. To her +aid her two sturdy little sisters darted, and the three gave a mighty +tug, to haul the pup and all. + +But the unexpected happened. The wheel came off. The pup let out a +yell of consternation and turned a back somersault; the three little +Stowes went down in a heap of legs and heads, while the wagon lurched +abruptly and gave the tiny passenger a jolt that astonished him +mightily. The three small girls scrambled to their feet, awed into +silence by their breaking of the wagon. + +For a moment the hush was impressive. Then the gravity began to go +from the face of little Carson. Something was dancing in his eyes. +His quaint little face wrinkled oddly in mirth. His head went back, +and the sweetest conceivable chuckle of baby laughter came from his +lips. Like joy of bubbling water in a brook, it rippled in music never +before awakened. Old Jim and Miss Doc looked at each other in complete +amazement, but the little fellow laughed and laughed and laughed. His +heart was overflowing, suddenly, with all the laughing and joy that had +never before been invited to his heart. The other youngsters joined +him in his merriment, and so did the preacher and pretty Mrs. Stowe; +and so did Jim and Miss Doc, but these two laughed with tears warmly +welling from their eyes. + +It seemed as if the fatherless and motherless little foundling laughed +for all the days and weeks and months of sadness gone beyond his baby +recall. And this was the opening only of his frolic and fun with the +children. They kissed him in fondness, and planted him promptly in a +second of the wagons. They knew a hundred devices for bringing him joy +and merriment, not the least important of which was the irresistible +march of destruction on the rough-made Christmas treasures. + +That evening a dozen rough and awkward men of the camp came casually in +to visit Miss Doc, whose old-time set of thoughts and ideas had been +shattered, till in sheer despair of getting them all in proper order +once again she let them go and joined in the general outbreak of +amusement. + +There were games of hide-and-seek, in which the four happy children and +the men all joined with equal irresponsibility, and games of +blind-man's-buff, that threatened the breaking to pieces of the house. +Through it all, old Jim and the preacher, Mrs. Stowe and Miss Doc were +becoming more and more friendly. + +At last the day and the evening, too, were gone. The tired youngsters, +all but little Skeezucks, fell asleep, and were tucked into bed. Even +the pup was exhausted. Field and the blacksmith, Lufkins, Bone, Keno, +and the others thought eagerly of the morrow, which would come so soon, +and go so swiftly, and leave them with no little trio of girls romping +with their finally joyous bit of a boy. + +When at length they were ready to say good-night to tiny Carson, he was +sitting again on the knee of the gray old miner. To every one he gave +a sweet little smile, as they took his soft, baby hand for a shake. + +And when they were gone, and sleep was coming to hover him softly in +her wings, he held out both his little arms in a gesture of longing +that seemed to embrace the three red caps and all this happier world he +began to understand. + +"Somebody--wants 'ittle--Nu-thans," he sighed, and his tiny mouth was +smiling when his eyes had closed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +WHEN THE PARSON DEPARTED + +In the morning the preacher rolled up his sleeves and assisted Jim in +preparing breakfast in the cabin on the hill, where he and Doc, in +addition to Keno and the miner, had spent the night. Doc had departed +at an early hour to take his morning meal at home. Keno was out in the +brush securing additional fuel, the supply of which was low. + +"Jim," said Stowe, in the easy way so quickly adopted in the mines, +"how does the camp happen to have this one little child? There seem to +be no families, and that I can understand, for Bullionville is much the +same; but where did you get the pretty little boy?" + +"I found him out in the brush, way over to Coyote Valley," Jim replied. +"He was painted up to look like a little Piute, and the Injuns must +have lost him when they went through the valley hunting rabbits." + +"Found him--out in the brush?" repeated the preacher. "Was he all +alone?" + +"Not quite. He had several dead rabbits for company," Jim drawled in +reply, and he told all that was known, and all that the camp had +conjectured, concerning the finding of the grave little chap, and his +brief and none too happy sojourn in Borealis. + +The preacher listened with sympathetic attention. + +"Poor little fellow," he said, at the end. "It someway makes me think +of a thing that occurred near Bullionville. I was called to +Giant-Powder Gulch to give a man a decent burial. He had been on a +three-days' spree, and then had lain all night in the wet where the +horse-trough overflowed, and he died of quick pneumonia. Well, a man +there told me the fellow was a stranger to the Gulch. He said the +dissolute creature had appeared, on the first occasion, with a very +small child, a little boy, who he said had belonged to his sister, who +was dead. My informant said that just as soon as the fellow could +learn the location of a near-by Indian camp he had carried the little +boy away. The man who told me of it never heard of the child again, +and, in fact, had not been aware of the drunkard's return to the Gulch, +till he heard the man had died, in the rear of a highly notorious +saloon. I wonder if it's possible this quiet little chap is the same +little boy." + +"It don't seem possible a livin' man--a white man--could have done a +thing like that," said Jim. + +"No--it doesn't," Stowe agreed. + +"And yet, it must have been in some such way little Skeezucks came to +be among the Injuns," Jim reflected, aloud. Then in a moment he added; +"I'm glad you told me, parson. I know now the low-down brute that sent +him off with the Piute hunters can't never come to Borealis and take +him away." + +And yet, all through their homely breakfast old Jim was silently +thinking. A newer tenderness for the innocent, deserted little pilgrim +was welling in his heart. + +Keno, having declared his intention of shovelling off the snow and +opening up a trench to uncover the gold-ledge of the miner's claim, +departed briskly when the meal was presently finished. Jim and the +preacher, with the pup, however, went at once to the home of Miss +Dennihan, where the children were all thus early engaged in starting +off the day of romping and fun. + +The lunch that came along at noon, and the dinner that the happy Miss +Doc prepared at dusk, were mere interruptions in the play of the tiny +Carson and the lively little girls. + +There never has been, and there never can be, a measure of childish +happiness, but surely never was a child in the world more happy than +the quaint little waif who had sat all alone that bright November +afternoon in the brush where the Indian pony had dropped him. All the +games they had tried on the previous day were repeated anew by the +youngsters, and many freshly invented were enjoyed, including a romp in +the snow, with the sled that one of the miners had fashioned for the +Christmas-tree. + +That evening a larger contingent of the men who hungered for the +atmosphere of home came early to the little house and joined in the +games. Laughter made them all one human family, and songs were sung +that took them back to farms and clearings and villages, far away in +the Eastern States, where sweethearts, mothers, wives, and sisters +ofttimes waited and waited for news of a wanderer, lured far away by +the glint of silver and gold. The notes of birds, the chatter of +brooks, the tinkle of cow-bells came again, with the dreams of a +barefoot boy. + +Something of calm and a newer hope and fresher resolution was +vouchsafed to them all when the wholesome young preacher held a homely +service, in response to their earnest request. + +"Life is a mining for gold," said he, "and every human breast is a +mother-lode of the precious metal--if only some one can find the +out-croppings, locate a claim, and come upon the ledge. There are +toils, privations, and sufferings, which the search for gold brings +forever in its train. There are pains and miseries and woe in the +search for the gold in men, but, boys, it's a glorious life! There is +something so honest, so splendid, in taking the metal from the earth! +No one is injured, every one is helped. And when the gold in a man is +found, think what a gift it is to the world and to God! I am a miner +myself, but I make no gold. It is there, in the hill, or in the man, +where God has put it away, and all that you and I can do is to work, +though our hands be blistered and our hearts be sore, until we come +upon the treasure at the last. We hasten here, and we scramble there, +wheresoever the glint seems brightest, the field most promising; but +the gold I seek is everywhere, and, boys, there is gold on gold in +Borealis! + +"In the depth of the tunnel or the shaft you need a candle, throwing +out its welcome rays, to show you how to work the best and where to +dig, as you follow the lead. In the search for gold the way is very +often dark, so we'll sing a hymn that I think you will like, and then +we'll conclude with a prayer. + +"Children--girls--we will all start it off together, you and your +mother and me." + +The three little, bright-faced girls, the pretty mother, and the father +of the little flock stood there together to sing. They sang the hymn +old Jim had attempted to recall at his own little service that Sunday, +weeks before: + + "Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, + Lead Thou me on. + The night is dark and I am far from home. + Lead Thou me on. + Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see + The distant scene; one step enough for me." + +The fresh, sweet voices of the three little girls sent a thrill of +pleasure through the hearts of the big, rough men, and the lumps arose +in their throats. One after another they joined in the singing, those +who knew no words as well as those who were quick to catch a line or +more. + +Then at last the preacher held up his hand in his earnest supplication. + +"Father," he said, in his simple way, "we are only a few of Thy +children, here in the hollow of Thy mountains, but we wish to share in +the beauty of Thy smile. We want to hear the comfort of Thy voice. +Away out here in the sage-brush we pray that Thou wilt find us and take +us home to Thy heart and love. Father, when Thou sendest Thy blessing +for this little child, send enough for all the boys. Amen." + +And so the evening ended, and the night moved in majesty across the +mountains. + +In the morning, soon after breakfasts were eaten, and Jim and the +preacher had come again to the home of the Dennihans, Webber, the +blacksmith, and Lufkins, the teamster, presently arrived with the +horses and carriage. + +A large group of men swiftly gathered to bid good-bye to the children, +the shy little mother, and the fine young preacher. + +"I'm sorry to go," he told them, honestly. "I like your little camp." + +"It's goin' to be a rousin' town pretty soon, by jinks!" said Keno, +pulling at his sleeves. "I'm showin' up a great big ledge, on Jim's +Baberlonian claim." + +"Mebbe you'll some day come back here, parson," said the smith. + +"Perhaps I shall," he answered. Then a faint look of worry came on his +face as he thrust his hand in his pocket. "Before I forget it, you +must let me know what my bill is for board of the horses and also for +the work you've done." + +Webber flushed crimson. + +"There ain't no bill," he said. "What do you take us fellers +fer--since little Skeezucks came to camp? All we want is to shake +hands all 'round, with you and the missus and the little girls." + +Old Jim, little Skeezucks, the pup, and Miss Doc, with Mrs. Stowe, came +out through the snow to the road in front of the gate. Not a penny had +the preacher been able to force upon the Dennihans for their lodging +and care. + +The man tried to speak--to thank them all, but he failed. He shook +hands "all around," however, and then his shy little wife and the three +little girls did the same. Preacher and all, they kissed tiny Carson, +sitting on the arm he knew so well, and holding fast to his doll; and +he placed his wee bit of a hand on the face of each of his bright-faced +little friends. He understood almost nothing of what it meant to have +his visitors clamber into the carriage, nevertheless a grave little +query came into his eyes. + +"Well, Jim, good-bye again," said Stowe, and he shook the old miner's +hand a final time. "Good-bye, Miss Dennihan--good-bye, boys." + +With all the little youngsters in their bright red caps waving their +mittened hands and calling out good-bye, the awkward men, Miss Doc, old +Jim, and tiny Skeezucks saw them drive away. Till they came to the +bend of the road the children continued to wave, and then the great +ravine received them as if to the arms of the mountains. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +OLD JIM'S RESOLUTION + +All that day little Skeezucks and the pup were waiting, listening, +expecting the door to open and the three small girls to reappear. They +went to the window time after time and searched the landscape of +mountains and snow, Tintoretto standing on his hind-legs for the +purpose, and emitting little sounds of puppy-wise worry at the long +delay of their three little friends. + +A number of the men of the camp came to visit there again that evening. + +"We thought little Skeezucks might be lonesome," they explained. + +So often as the door was opened, the pup and the grave little +pilgrim--clothed these days in the little white frock Miss Dennihan had +made--looked up, ever in the hope, of espying again those three red +caps. The men saw the wistfulness increase in the baby's face. + +"We've got to keep him amused," said Field. + +The awkward fellows, therefore, began the games, and romped about, and +rode the lonely little foundling in the wagon, to the great delight of +poor Miss Doc, who felt, as much as the pup or Skeezucks, the singular +emptiness of her house. + +Having learned to laugh, little Carson tried to repeat the delights of +a mirthful emotion. The faint baby smile that resulted made the men +all quiet and sober. + +"He's tired, that's what the matter," the blacksmith explained. "We'd +better be goin', boys, and come to see him to-morrow." + +"Of course he must be tired," agreed the teamster. + +But Jim, sitting silently watching, and the fond Miss Doc, whom nothing +concerning the child escaped, knew better. It was not, however, till +the boys were gone and silence had settled on the house that even Jim +was made aware of the all that the tiny mite of a man was undergoing. +Miss Doc had gone to the kitchen. Jim, Tintoretto, and little +Skeezucks were alone. The little fellow and the pup were standing in +the centre of the floor, intently listening. Together they went to the +door. There little Carson stretched his tiny arms across the panels in +baby appeal. + +"Bruv-ver--Jim," he begged. "Bruv-ver--Jim." + +Then, at last, the gray old miner understood the whole significance of +the baby words. "Bruvver Jim" meant more than just himself; it meant +the three little girls--associates--children--all that is dear to a +childish heart--all that is indispensable to baby happiness--all that a +lonely little heart must have or starve. + +Jim groaned, for the utmost he could do was done when he took the +sobbing little fellow in his arms and murmured him words of comfort as +he carried him up and down the room. + +The day that followed, and the day after that, served only to deepen +the longing in the childish breast. The worried men of Borealis played +on the floor in desperation. They fashioned new wagons, sleds, and +dolls; they exhausted every device their natures prompted; but beyond a +sad little smile and the call for "Bruvver Jim" they received no answer +from the baby heart, + +At the end of a week the little fellow smiled no more, not even in his +faint, sweet way of yearning. His heart was starving; his grave, baby +thought was far away, with the small red caps and the laughing voices +of children. + +The fond Miss Doc and the gray old Jim alone knew what the end must be, +inevitably, unless some change should speedily come to pass. + +Meantime, Keno had quietly opened up a mighty ledge of gold-bearing ore +on the hill. It lay between walls of slate and granite. Its hugeness +was assured. That the camp would boom in the spring was foreordained. +And that ledge all belonged to Jim. But he heard them excitedly tell +what the find would do for him and the camp as one in a dream. He +could not care while his tiny waif was starving in his lonely little +way. + +"Boys," he said at last, one night, when the smith and Bone had called +to see the tiny man, who had sadly gone to sleep--"boys, he's pinin'. +He's goin' to die if he don't have little kids for company. I've made +up my mind. I'm goin' to take him to Fremont right away." + +Miss Doc, who was knitting a tiny pair of mittens and planning a tiny +red cap and woollen leggings, dropped a stitch and lost a shade of +color from her face. + +"Ain't there no other way?" inquired the blacksmith, a poignant regret +already at his heart. "You don't really think he'd up and die?" + +"Children have got to be happy," Jim replied. "If they don't get their +fun when they're little, why, when is it ever goin' to come? I know +he'll die, all alone with us old cusses, and I ain't a-goin' to wait." + +"But the claim is goin' to be a fortune," said Bone. "Couldn't you +hold on jest a week or two and see if he won't get over thinkin' 'bout +the little gals?" + +"If I kept him here and he died, like that--just pinin' away for other +little kids--I couldn't look fortune in the face," answered Jim, to +which, in a moment, he added, slowly, "Boys, he's more to me than all +the claims in Nevada." + +"But--you'll bring him back in the spring, of course?" said the +blacksmith, with a worried look about his eyes. "We'd miss him, Jim, +almost as much as you." + +"By that time," supplemented Bone, "the camp's agoin' to be boomin'. +Probably we'll have lots of wimmen and kids and schools and everything, +fer the gold up yonder is goin' to make Borealis some consid'rable +shakes." + +"I'll bring him back in the spring, all right," said the miner; "but +none of you boys would want to see me keep him here and have him die." + +Miss Doc had been a silent listener to all their conversation. She was +knitting again, with doubled speed. + +"Jim, how you goin'?" she now inquired. + +"I want to get a horse," answered Jim. "We could ride there horseback +quicker than any other way. If only I can get the horse." + +"It may be stormin' in the mornin'," Webber suggested. "A few clouds +is comin' up from the West. What about the horse, Jim, if it starts to +snow?" + +"Riding in a saddle, I can git through," said the miner. "If it snows +at all, it won't storm bad. Storms that come up sudden never last very +long, and it's been good and bright all day. I'll start unless it's +snowin' feather-beds." + +Miss Doc had been feeling, since the subject first was broached, that +something in her heart would snap. But she worked on, her emotions, +yearnings, and fears all rigorously knitted into the tiny mittens. + +"You'll let me wrap him up real warm?" she said. + +Jim knew her thoughts were all on little Skeezucks. + +"If you didn't do it, who would?" he asked, in a kindness of heart that +set her pulse to faster beating. + +"But--s'pose you don't git any job in Fremont," Bone inquired. "Will +you let us know?" + +"I'll git it, don't you fear," said Jim. "I know there ain't no one so +blind as the feller who's always lookin' for a job, but the little kid +has fetched me a sort of second sight." + +"Well, if anything was goin' hard, we'd like for to know," insisted +Bone. "I guess we'd better start along, though, now, if we're goin' to +scare up a bronch to-night." + +He and the blacksmith departed. Jim and the lorn Miss Doc sat silently +together in the warm little house. Jim looked at her quietly, and saw +many phases of womanly beauty in her homely face. + +"Wal," he drawled, at last, "I'll go up home, on the hill." He +hesitated for a moment, and then added, quietly, "Miss Doc, you've been +awful kind to the little boy--and me." + +"It wasn't nuthin'," she said. + +They stood there together, beside the table. + +"Yes, it was," said Jim, "and it's set me to thinkin' a heap." He was +silent for a moment, as before, and then, somewhat shyly for him, he +said, "When we come back home here, in the spring, Miss Doc, I'm +thinkin' the little feller ought to have a mother. Do you think you +could put up with him--and with me?" + +"Jim," she said, in a voice that shook with emotion, "do you think I'm +a kind enough woman?" + +"Too kind--for such as me," said Jim, thickly. He took her hand in his +own, and with something of a courtliness and grace, reminiscent of his +youth, he raised it to his lips. "Good-night," he said. "Good-night, +Miss Doc." + +"Good-night, Jim," she answered, and he saw in her eyes the beauty that +God in his wisdom gives alone to mother-kind. + +And when he had gone she sat there long, forgetting to keep up the +fire, forgetting that Doc himself would come home early in the morning +from his night-employment, forgetting everything personal save the +words old Jim had spoken, as she knitted and knitted, to finish that +tiny pair of mittens. + +The night was spent, and her heart was at once glad and sore when, at +last, she concluded her labor of love. Nevertheless, in the morning +she was up in time to prepare a luncheon for Jim to take along, and to +delve in her trunk for precious wraps and woollens in which to bundle +the grave little pilgrim, long before old Jim or the horse he would +ride had appeared before the house. + +Little Skeezucks was early awake and dressed. A score of times Miss +Doc caught him up in her hungering arms, to hold him in fervor to her +heart and to kiss his baby cheek. If she cried a little, she made it +sound and look like laughter to the child. He patted her face with his +tiny hand, even as he begged for "Bruvver Jim." + +"You're goin' to find Bruvver Jim," she said. "You're goin' away from +fussy old me to where you'll be right happy." + +At least a dozen men of the camp came plodding along behind the horse, +that arrived at the same time Jim, the pup, and Keno appeared at the +Dennihan home. + +Doc Dennihan had cut off his customary period of rest and sleep, to say +good-bye, with the others, to the pilgrims about to depart. + +Jim was dressed about as usual for the ride, save that he wore an extra +pair of trousers beneath his overalls and a great blanket-coat upon his +back. He was hardy, and he looked it, big as he was and solidly +planted in his wrinkled boots. + +The sky, despite Webber's predictions of a storm, was practically free +from clouds, but a breeze was sweeping through the gorge with +increasing strength. It was cold, and the men who stood about in +groups kept their hands in their pockets and their feet on the move for +the sake of the slight degree of warmth thereby afforded. + +As their spokesman, Webber, the blacksmith, took the miner aside. + +"Jim," said he, producing a buckskin bag, which he dropped in the +miner's pocket, "the boys can't do nuthin' fer little Skeezucks when +he's 'way off up to Fremont, so they've chipped in a little and wanted +you to have it in case of need." + +"But, Webber--" started Jim. + +"Ain't no buts," interrupted the smith. "You'll hurt their feelin's if +you go to buttin' and gittin' ornary." + +Wherefore the heavy little bag of coins remained where Webber had +placed it. + +There were sober words of caution and advice, modest requests for a +line now and then, and many an evidence of the hold old Jim had secured +on their hearts before the miner finally received the grave and +carefully bundled little Carson from the arms of Miss Doc and came to +the gate to mount his horse and ride away. + +"Jest buckle this strap around me and the little boy," instructed Jim, +as he gave a wide leather belt to the teamster; "then if I happen for +to need both hands, he won't be able to git a fall." + +The strap was adjusted about the two in the manner suggested. + +"Good scheme," commented Field, and the others agreed that it was. + +Then all the rough and awkward big fellows soberly shook the pretty +little pilgrim's hand in its mitten, and said good-bye to the tiny +chap, who was clinging, as always, to his doll. + +"What you goin' to do with Tinterretter?" inquired the teamster as he +looked at the pup, while Jim, with an active swing, mounted to the +saddle. + +"Take him along," said Jim. "I'll put him in the sack I've got, and +tie him on behind the saddle when he gits too much of runnin' on foot. +He wouldn't like it to be left behind and Skeezucks gone." + +"Guess that's kerrect," agreed the teamster. "He's a bully pup, you +bet." + +Poor Miss Doc remained inside the gate. Her one mad impulse was to run +to Jim, clasp him and the grave little waif in her arms, and beg to be +taken on the horse. But repression had long been her habit of life. +She smiled, and did not even speak, though the eyes of the fond little +pilgrim were turned upon her in baby affection. + +"Well--you'll git there all right," said the blacksmith, voicing the +hope that swelled in his heart. "So long, and let us know how the +little feller makes it with the children." + +"By jinks!--so long," said Keno, striving tremendously to keep down his +rising emotions. "So long. I'll stay by the claim." + +"And give our love to them three little gals," said Bone. "So long." + +One after another they wrung the big, rough hand, and said "So long" in +their easy way. + +"Bye, Miss Doc," said Jim, at the last. "Skeezucks--say good-bye--to +Miss Doc--and all the boys. Say good-bye." + +The little fellow had heard "good-bye" when the three little caps of +red departed. It came as a word that hurt his tiny heart. But, +obediently, he looked about at all his friends. + +"Dood-bye," he said, in baby accents. "Dood-bye." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +IN THE TOILS OF THE BLIZZARD + +Something was tugged and wrenched mighty hard as Jim rode finally +around the hill, and so out of sight of the meagre little camp he +called his home, but resolution was strong within him. Up and up +through the narrow canon, winding tortuously towards the summit, like +the trail of a most prodigious serpent channelled in the snow, the +horse slowly climbed, with Tintoretto, the joyous, busily visiting each +and every portion of the road, behind, before, and at the sides. + +What a world of white it was! The wind had increased, and a few +scattered specks of snow that sped before it seemed trying to muster +the force of a storm, from the sky in which the sun was still shining, +between huge rents and spaces that separated scudding clouds. + +It was not, however, until an hour had gone that the flakes began to +swirl in fitful flurries. By then the travellers were making better +time, and Jim was convinced the blotted sun would soon again assert its +mastery over clouds so abruptly accumulated in the sky. The wind, +however, had veered about. It came directly in their faces, causing +the horse to lower his head and the pup to sniff in displeasure. + +Little Skeezucks, with his back to the slanting fire of small, hard +flakes, nestled in comfort on the big, protecting shoulder, where he +felt secure against all manner of attack. + +For two more hours they rode ahead, while the snow came down somewhat +thicker. + +"It can't last," old Jim said, cheerily, to the child and horse and +pup. "Just a blowout. Too fierce and sudden to hold." + +Yet, when they came to the great level valley beyond the second range +of hills, the biting gale appeared to greet them with a fury pent up +for the purpose. Unobstructed it swept across the desert of snow, +flinging not only the shotlike particles from the sky, but also the +loose, roving drift, as dry as salt, that lay four inches deep upon the +solider snow that floored the plain. And such miles and miles of the +frozen waste were there! The distant mountains looked like huge +windrows of snow wearing away in the rush of the gale. + +Confident still it was only a flurry, Jim rode on. The pup by now was +trailing behind, his tail less high, his fuzzy coat beginning to fill +with snow, his eyes so pelted that he sneezed to keep them clear. + +The air was cold and piercing as it drove upon them. Jim felt his feet +begin to ache in his hard, leather boots. Beneath his clothing the +chill lay thinly against his body, save for the place where little +Carson was strapped to his breast. + +"It can't last," the man insisted. "Never yet saw a blusterin' storm +that didn't blow itself to nothin' in a hurry." + +But a darkness was flung about them with the thicker snow that flew. +Indeed, the flakes were multiplying tremendously. The wind was +becoming a hurricane. With a roar it rushed across the valley. The +world of storm suddenly closed in upon them and narrowed down the +visible circle of desolation. Like hurrying troops of incalculable +units, the dots of frozen stuff went sweeping past in a blinding swarm. + +The thing had become a blizzard. Jim halted his horse, convinced that +wisdom prompted them to turn their backs upon the fury and flee again +to Borealis, to await a calmer day for travelling. A fiercer buffeting +of wind puffed from the west, fiercely toothed with shot of snow. As +if in fear unnamable, a gaunt coyote suddenly appeared scurrying onward +before the hail and snow, and was quickly gone. + +The horse shied violently out of the road. The girth of the saddle was +loosened. With a superhuman effort old Jim remained in his seat, but +he knew he must tighten the cinch. Dismounting, he permitted the horse +to face away from the gale. The pup came gladly to the shelter of the +miner's boots and clambered stiffly up on his leg, for a word of +companionship and comfort. + +"All right," said Jim, giving him a pat on the head when the saddle was +once more secure in its place; "but I reckon we'll turn back homeward, +and I'll walk myself, for a spell, to warm me up. It may let up, and +if it does we can head for Fremont again without much loss of time." + +With the bridle-rein over his shoulder, he led the horse back the way +they had come, his own head low on his breast, to avoid the particles +of snow that searched him out persistently. + +They had not plodded homeward far when the miner presently discovered +they were floundering about in snow-covered brush. He quickly lifted +his head to look about. He could see for a distance of less than +twenty feet in any direction. Mountains, plain--the world of +white--had disappeared in the blinding onrush of snow and wind. A +chaos of driving particles comprised the universe. And by the token of +the brush underfoot they had wandered from the road. There had been no +attempt on the miner's part to follow any tracks they had left on their +westward course, for the gale and drift had obliterated every sign, +almost as soon as the horse's hoofs had ploughed them in the snow. + +Believing that the narrow road across the desolation of the valley lay +to the right, he forged ahead in that direction. Soon they came upon +smoother walking, which he thought was an indication that the road they +sought was underfoot. It was not. He plodded onward for fifteen +minutes, however, before he knew he had made a mistake. + +The storm was, if possible, more furious. The snow flew thicker; it +stung more sharply, and seemed to come from every direction. + +"We'll stand right here behind the horse till it quits," he said. "It +can't keep up a lick like this." + +But turning about, in an effort to face the animal away from the worst +of the blizzard, he kicked a clump of sage brush arched fairly over by +its burden of snow. Instantly a startled rabbit leaped from beneath +the shrub and bounded against the horse's legs, and then away in the +storm. In affright the horse jerked madly backward. The bridle was +broken. It held for a second, then tore away from the animal's head +and fell in a heap in the snow. + +"Whoa, boy!--whoa!" said the miner, in a quiet way, but the horse, in +his terror, snorted at the brush and galloped away, to be lost from +sight on the instant. + +For a moment the miner, with his bundled little burden in his arms, +started in pursuit of the bronco. But even the animal's tracks in the +snow were being already effaced by the sweep of the powdery gale. The +utter futility of searching for anything was harshly thrust upon the +miner's senses. + +They were lost in that valley of snow, cold, and blizzard. + +"We'll have to make a shelter the best we can," he said, "and wait +here, maybe half an hour, till the storm has quit." + +He kicked the snow from a cluster of sagebrush shrubs, and behind this +flimsy barrier presently crouched, with the shivering pup, and with the +silent little foundling in his arms. + +What hours that merciless blizzard raged, no annals of Nevada tell. +What struggles the gray old miner made to find his way homeward before +its wrath, what a fight it was he waged against the elements till night +came on and the worst of the storm had ceased, could never be known in +Borealis. + +But early that night the teamster, Lufkins, was startled by the +neighing of a horse, and when he came to the stable, there was the +half-blinded animal on which old Jim and tiny Skeezucks had ridden away +in the morning--the empty saddle still upon his back. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A BED IN THE SNOW + +The great stout ore-wagons stood in the snow that lay on the Borealis +street, with never a horse or a mule to keep them company. Not an +animal fit to bear a man had been left in the camp. But the twenty men +who rode far off in the white desolation out beyond were losing hope as +they searched and searched in the drifts and mounds that lay so deep +upon the earth. + +By feeble lantern glows at first, and later by the cold, gray light of +dawn, they scanned the road and the country for miles and miles. It +was five o'clock, and six in the morning, and still the scattered +company of men and horses pushed onward through the snow. + +The quest became one of dread. They almost feared to find the little +group. The wind had ceased to blow, but the air was cold. Gray +ribbons of cloud were stretched across the sky. Desolation was +everywhere--in the heavens, on the plain, on the distant mountains. +All the world was snow, dotted only where the mounted men made +insignificant spots against the waste of white. + +Aching with the cold, aching more in their hearts, the men from +Borealis knew a hundred ways to fear the worst. + +Then at last a shout, and a shot from a pistol, sped to the farthest +limits of the line of searching riders and prodded every drop of +sluggish blood within them to a swift activity. + +The shout and signal had come from Webber, the blacksmith, riding a +big, bay mare. Instantly Field, Bone, and Lufkins galloped to where he +was swinging out of his saddle. + +There in the snow, where at last he had floundered down after making an +effort truly heroic to return to Borealis, lay the gray old Jim, with +tiny Skeezucks strapped to his breast and hovered by his motionless +arms. In his hands the little mite of a pilgrim held his furry doll. +On the snow lay the luncheon Miss Doc had so lovingly prepared. And +Tintoretto, the pup, whom nature had made to be joyous and glad, was +prostrate at the miner's feet, with flakes of white all blown through +the hair of his coat. A narrow little track around the two he loved so +well was beaten in the snow, where time after time the worried little +animal had circled and circled about the silent forms, in some brave, +puppy-wise service of watching and guarding, faithfully maintained till +he could move no more. + +For a moment after Bone and Lufkins joined him at the spot, the +blacksmith stood looking at the half-buried three. The whole tale of +struggle with the chill, of toiling onward through the heavy snow, of +falling over hidden shrubs, of battling for their lives, was somehow +revealed to the silent men by the haggard, death-white face of Jim. + +"They can't--be dead," said the smith, in a broken voice. +"He--couldn't, and--us all--his friends." + +But when he knelt and pushed away some of the snow, the others thought +his heart had lost all hope. + +It was Field, however, who thought to feel for a pulse. The eager +searchers from farther away had come to the place. A dozen pair of +eyes or more were focussed on the man as he held his breath and felt +for a sign of life. + +"Alive!--He's alive!" he cried, excitedly. "And little Skeezucks, too! +For God's sake, boys, let's get them back to camp!" + +In a leap of gladness the men let out a mighty cheer. From every +saddle a rolled-up blanket was swiftly cut, and rough but tender hands +swept off the snow that clung to the forms of the miner, the child, and +the pup. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CLEANING THEIR SLATE + +Never could castle or mansion contain more of gladness and joy of the +heart than was crowded into the modest little home of Miss Doc when at +last the prayers and ministrations of a score of men and the one +"decent" woman of the camp were rewarded by the Father all-pitiful. + +"I'm goin' to bawl, and I'll lick any feller that calls me a baby!" +said the blacksmith, but he laughed and "bawled" together. + +They had saved them all, but a mighty quiet Jim and a quieter little +Skeezucks and a wholly subdued little pup lay helpless still in the +care of the awkward squad of nurses. + +And then a council of citizens got together at the dingy shop of Webber +for a talk. "We mustn't fergit," said the smith, "that Jim was a +takin' the poor little feller to Fremont 'cause he thought he was +pinin' away fer children's company; and I guess Jim knowed. Now, the +question is, what we goin' for to do? Little Skeezucks ain't a goin' +to be no livelier unless he gits that company--and maybe he'll up and +die of loneliness, after all. Do you fellers think we'd ought to git +up a party and take 'em all to Fremont, as soon as they're able to +stand the trip?" + +Bone, the bar-keep answered: "What's the matter with gittin' the +preacher and his wife and three little gals to come back here and +settle in Borealis? I'm goin' in for minin', after a while, myself, +and I'll--and I'll give my saloon from eight to two on Sundays to be +fixed all up fer a church; and I reckon we kin support Parson Stowe as +slick as any town in all Navady." + +For a moment this astonishing speech was followed by absolute silence. +Then, as if with one accord, the men all cheered in admiration. + +"Let's git the parson back right off," cried the carpenter. "I kin +build the finest steeple ever was!" + +"Send a gang to fetch him here to-day!" said Webber. + +"I wouldn't lose no time, or he may git stuck on Fremont, and never +want to budge," added Lufkins. + +Field and half a dozen more concurred. + +"I'll be one to go myself," said the blacksmith, promptly. "Two or +three others can come along, and we'll git him if we have to steal +him--wife, little gals, and all!" + +But the party was yet unformed for the trip when the news of the +council's intentions was spread throughout the camp, and an ugly +feature of the life in the mines was revealed. + +The gambler, Parky, sufficiently recovered from the wound in his arm to +be out of his house, and planning a secret revenge against old Jim and +his friends, was more than merely opposed to the plan which had come +from the shop of Webber. + +"It don't go down," said he to a crowd, with a sneer at the parson and +with oaths for Bone. "I own some Borealis property myself, and don't +you fergit I'll make things too hot for any preacher to settle in the +camp. And I 'ain't yet finished with the gang that thought they was +smart on New-Year's eve--just chew that up with your cud of tobacker!" + +With half a dozen ruffians at his back--the scum of prisons, +gambling-dens, and low resorts--he summed up a menace not to be +estimated lightly. Many citizens feared to incur his wrath; many were +weak, and therefore as likely to gather to his side as not, under the +pressure he could put upon them. + +The camp was suddenly ripe for a struggle. Right and decency, or +lawlessness and violence would speedily conquer. There could be no +half-way measures. If Webber and his following had been persuaded +before that Parson Stowe should have a place in the town, they were +grimly determined on the project now. + +The blacksmith it was who strung up once again a bar of steel before +his shop and rang it with his hammer. + +There were forty men who answered to the summons. And when they had +finished the council of war within the shop, the work of an upward lift +had been accomplished. A supplement was added to the work of signing a +short petition requesting Parson Stowe to come among them, and this +latter took the form of a mandate addressed to the gambler and his +backing of outlaws, thieves, and roughs. It was brief, but the weight +of its words was mighty. + +"The space you're using in Borealis is wanted for decenter purposes," +it read. "We give you twenty-four hours to clear out. Git!--and then +God have mercy on your souls if any one of the gang is found in +Borealis!" + +This was all there was, except for a fearful drawing of a coffin and a +skull. And such an array of inky names, scrawled with obvious pains +and distinctness, was on the paper that argument itself was plainly +hand in hand with a noose of rope. + +Opposition to an army of forty wrathful and determined men would have +been but suicide. Parky nodded when he read the note. He knew the +game was closed. He sold all his interests in the camp for what they +would bring and bought a pair of horses and a carriage. + +In groups and pairs his henchmen--suddenly thrown over by their leader +to hustle for themselves--sneaked away from the town, many of them +leaving immediately in their dread of the grim reign of law now come +upon the camp. Parky, for his part, waited in some deliberation, and +then drove away with a sneer upon his lips when at last his time was +growing uncomfortably short. + +Decency had won--the moral slate of the camp was clean! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +A DAY OF JOY + +There came a day--never to be forgotten in the annals of +Borealis--when, to the ringing of the bar of steel, Parson Stowe, with +his pretty little wife and the three little red-capped youngsters, rode +once more into town to make their home with their big, rough friends. + +Fifty awkward men of the mines roared lustily with cheering. Fifty +great voices then combined in a sweet, old song that rang through the +snow-clad hills: + + "Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, + Lead Thou me on. + The night is dark, and I am far from home, + Lead Thou me on." + +And the first official acts of the wholesome young parson were +conducted in the "church" that Bone had given to the town when the +happy little Skeezucks was christened "Carson Boone" and the drawling +old Jim and the fond Miss Doc were united as man and wife. + +"If only I'd known what a heart she's got, I'd asked her before," the +miner drawled. "But, boys, it's never too late to pray for sense." + +The moment of it all, however, which the men would remember till the +final call of the trumpet was that in which the three little girls, in +their bright-red caps, came in at the door of the Dennihan home. They +would never forget the look on the face of their motherless, quaint +little waif as he held forth both his tiny arms to the vision and cried +out: + +"Bruvver Jim!" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Bruvver Jim's Baby, by Philip Verrill Mighels + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRUVVER JIM'S BABY *** + +***** This file should be named 16608-8.txt or 16608-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/0/16608/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/16608-8.zip b/16608-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2562385 --- /dev/null +++ b/16608-8.zip diff --git a/16608.txt b/16608.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4104db3 --- /dev/null +++ b/16608.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5959 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bruvver Jim's Baby, by Philip Verrill Mighels + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Bruvver Jim's Baby + +Author: Philip Verrill Mighels + +Release Date: August 27, 2005 [EBook #16608] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRUVVER JIM'S BABY *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +BRUVVER JIM'S BABY + +BY + +PHILIP VERRILL MIGHELS + + + + + + +NEW YORK AND LONDON + +HARPER & BROTHERS + +PUBLISHERS MCMIV + + + + +Copyright, 1904, by HARPER & BROTHERS. + + +_All rights reserved._ + +Published May, 1904. + + + + +This Volume is + +Dedicated, with much affection, to + +My Mother + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. A MIGHTY LITTLE HUNTER + II. JIM MAKES DISCOVERIES + III. THE WAY TO MAKE A DOLL + IV. PLANNING A NEW CELEBRATION + V. VISITORS AT THE CABIN + VI. THE BELL FOR CHURCH + VII. THE SUNDAY HAPPENINGS + VIII. OLD JIM DISTRAUGHT + IX. THE GUILTY MISS DOC + X. PREPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS + XI. TROUBLES AND DISCOVERIES + XII. THE MAKING OF A CHRISTMAS-TREE + XIII. THEIR CHRISTMAS-DAY + XIV. "IF ONLY I HAD THE RESOLUTION" + XV. THE GOLD IN BOREALIS + XVI. ARRIVALS IN CAMP + XVII. SKEEZUCKS GETS A NAME + XVIII. WHEN THE PARSON DEPARTED + XIX. OLD JIM'S RESOLUTION + XX. IN THE TOILS OF THE BLIZZARD + XXI. A BED IN THE SNOW + XXII. CLEANING THEIR SLATE + XXIII. A DAY OF JOY + + + + +BRUVVER JIM'S BABY + + +CHAPTER I + +A MIGHTY LITTLE HUNTER + +It all commenced that bright November day of the Indian rabbit drive +and hunt. The motley army of the Piute tribe was sweeping tremendously +across a sage-brush valley of Nevada, their force two hundred braves in +number. They marched abreast, some thirty yards apart, and formed a +line that was more than two miles long. + +The spectacle presented was wonderful to see. Red, yellow, and indigo +in their blankets and trappings, the hunters dotted out a line of color +as far as sight could reach. Through the knee-high brush they swept +ahead like a firing-line of battle, their guns incessantly booming, +their advance never halted, their purpose as grim and inexorable as +fate itself. Indeed, Death, the Reaper, multiplied two-hundred-fold +and mowing a swath of incredible proportions, could scarcely have +pillaged the land of its conies more thoroughly. + +Before the on-press of the two-mile wall of red men with their smoking +weapons, the panic-stricken rabbits scurried helplessly. Soon or late +they must double back to their burrows, soon or late they must +therefore die. + +Behind the army, fully twenty Indian ponies, ridden by the +youngster-braves of the cavalcade, were bearing great white burdens of +the slaughtered hares. + +The glint of gun-barrels, shining in the sun, flung back the light, +from end to end of the undulating column. Billows of smoke, +out-puffing unexpectedly, anywhere and everywhere along the line, +marked down the tragedies where desperate bunnies, scudding from cover +and racing up or down before the red men, were targets for fiercely +biting hail of lead from two or three or more of the guns at once. + +And nearly as frightened as the helpless creatures of the brush was a +tiny little pony-rider, back of the army, mounted on a plodding horse +that was all but hidden by its load of furry game. He was riding +double, this odd little bit of a youngster, with a sturdy Indian boy +who was on in front. That such a timid little dot of manhood should +have been permitted to join the hunt was a wonder. He was apparently +not more than three years old at the most. With funny little trousers +that reached to his heels, with big brown eyes all eloquent of doubt, +and with round, little, copper-colored cheeks, impinged upon by an old +fur cap he wore, pulled down over forehead and ears, he appeared about +as quaint a little man as one could readily discover. + +But he seemed distressed. And how he did hang on! The rabbits secured +upon the pony were crowding him backward most alarmingly. At first he +had clung to the back of his fellow-rider's shirt with all the might +and main of his tiny hands. As the burden of the rabbits had +increased, however, the Indian hunters had piled them in between the +timid little scamp and his sturdier companion, till now he was almost +out on the horse's tail. His alarm had, therefore, become +overwhelming. No fondness for the nice warm fur of the bunnies, no +faith in the larger boy in front, could suffice to drive from his tiny +face the look of woe unutterable, expressed by his eyes and his +trembling little mouth. + +The Indians, marching steadily onward, had come to the mountain that +bounded the plain. Already a score were across the road that led to +the mining-camp of Borealis, and were swarming up the sandy slope to +complete the mighty swing of the army, deploying anew to sweep far +westward through the farther half of the valley, and so at length +backward whence they came. + +The tiny chap of a game-bearer, gripping the long, velvet ears of one +of the jack-rabbits tied to his horse, felt a horrid new sensation of +sliding backward when the pony began to follow the hunters up the hill. +Not only did the animal's rump seem to sink beneath him as they took +the slope, but perspiration had made it amazingly smooth and insecure. + +The big fat rabbits rolled against the desperate little man in a +ponderous heap. The feet of one fell plump in his face, and seemed to +kick, with the motion of the horse. Then a buckskin thong abruptly +snapped in twain, somewhere deep in the bundle, and instantly the ears +to which the tiny man was clinging, together with the head and body of +that particular rabbit, and those of several others as well, parted +company with the pony. Gracefully they slid across the tail of the +much-relieved creature, and, pushing the tiny rider from his seat, they +landed with him plump upon the earth, and were left behind. + +Unhurt, but nearly buried by the four or five rabbits thus pulled from +the load by his sudden descent from his perch, the dazed little fellow +sat up in the sand and solemnly noted the rapid departure of the Indian +army--pony, companion, and all. + +Not only had his fall been unobserved by the marching braves, but the +boy with whom he had just been riding was blissfully unaware of the +fact that something behind had dismounted. The whole vast line of +Piute braves pressed swiftly on. The shots boomed and clattered, as +the hill-sides were startled by the echoes. Red, yellow, indigo--the +blankets and trappings were momentarily growing less and less distinct. + +More distant became the firing. Onward, ever onward, swung the great, +long column of the hunters. Dully, then even faintly, came the noise +of the guns. + +At last the firing could be heard no more. The two hundred warriors, +the ponies, the boys that rode--all were gone. Even the rabbits, that +an hour before had scampered here and there in the brush with their +furry feet, would never again go pattering through the sand. The sun +shone warmly down. The great world of valley and mountains, gray, +severe, unpeopled, was profoundly still, in that wonderful way of the +dying year, when even the crickets and locusts have ceased to sing. + +Clinging in silence to the long, soft ears of his motionless bunny, the +timid little game-bearer sat there alone, big-eyed and dumb with wonder +and childish alarm. He could see not far, unless it might be up the +hill, for the sage-brush grew above his head and circumscribed his +view. Miles and miles away, however, the mountains, in majesty of rock +and snow, were sharply lifting upward into blue so deep and cloudless +that its intimate proximity to the infinite was impressively manifest. +The day was sweet of the ripeness of the year, and virginal as all that +mighty land itself. + +With two of the rabbits across his lap, the tiny hunter made no effort +to rise. It was certainly secure to be sitting here in the sand, for +at least a fellow could fall no farther, and the good, big mountain was +not so impetuous or nervous as the pony. + +An hour went by and the mere little mite of a man had scarcely moved. +The sun was slanting towards the southwest corner of the universe. A +flock of geese, in a great changing V, flew slowly over the valley, +their wings beating gold from the sunlight, their honk! honk! honk! the +note of the end of the year. + +How soon they were gone! Then indeed all the earth was abandoned to +the quiet little youngster and his still more quiet company of rabbits. +There was no particular reason for moving. Where should he go, and how +could he go, did he wish to leave? To carry his bunny would be quite +beyond his strength; to leave him here would be equally beyond his +courage. + +But the sun was edging swiftly towards its hiding place; the frost of +the mountain air was quietly sharpening its teeth. Already the long, +gray shadow of the sage-brush fell like a cooling film across the +little fellow's form and face. + +Homeless, unmissed, and deserted, the tiny man could do nothing but sit +there and wait. The day would go, the twilight come, and the night +descend--the night with its darkness, its whispered mysteries, its +wailing coyotes, cruising in solitary melancholy hither and thither in +their search for food. + +But the sun was still wheeling, like a brazen disk, on the rim of the +hills, when something occurred. A tall, lanky man, something over +forty years of age, as thin as a hammer and dusty as the road itself--a +man with a beard and a long, gray, drooping mustache, and with drooping +clothes--a man selected by shiftlessness to be its sign and mark--a +miner in boots and overalls and great slouch hat--came tramping down a +trail of the mountain. He was holding in his dusty arms a yellowish +pup, that squirmed and wriggled and tried to lap his face, and +comported himself in pup-wise antics, till his master was presently +obliged to put him down in self-defence. + +The pup knew his duty, as to racing about, bumping into bushes, +snorting in places where game might abide, and thumping everything he +touched with his super-active tail. Almost immediately he scented +mysteries in plenty, for Indian ponies and hunters had left a fine, +large assortment of trails in the sand, that no wise pup could consent +to ignore. + +With yelps of gladness and appreciation, the pup went awkwardly +knocking through the brush, and presently halted--bracing abruptly with +his clumsy paws--amazed and confounded by the sight of a frightened +little red-man, sitting with his rabbits in the sand. + +For a second the dog was voiceless. Then he let out a bark that made +things jump, especially the tiny man and himself. + +"Here, come here, Tintoretto," drawlingly called the man from the +trail. "Come back here, you young tenderfoot." + +But Tintoretto answered that he wouldn't. He also said, in the +language of puppy barks, that important discoveries demanded not only +his but his master's attention where he was, forthwith. + +There was nothing else for it; the mountain was obliged to come to +Mohammed--or the man to the pup. Then the miner, no less than +Tintoretto, was astonished. + +To ward off the barking, the red little hunter had raised his arm +across his face, but his big brown eyes were visible above his hand, +and their childish seriousness appealed to the man at once. + +"Well, cut my diamonds if it ain't a kid!" drawled he. "Injun +pappoose, or I'm an elk! Young feller, where'd you come from, hey? +What in mischief do you think you're doin' here?" + +The tiny "Injun" made no reply. Tintoretto tried some puppy addresses. +He gave a little growl of friendship, and, clambering over rabbits and +all, began to lick the helpless child on the face and hands with +unmistakable cordiality. One of the rabbits fell and rolled over. +Tintoretto bounded backward in consternation, only to gather his +courage almost instantly upon him and bark with lusty defiance. + +"Shut up, you anermated disturbance," commanded his owner, mildly. +"You're enough to scare the hair off an elephant," and, squatting in +front of the wondering child, he looked at him pleasantly. "What you +up to, young feller, sittin' here by yourself?" he inquired. "Scared? +Needn't be scared of brother Jim, I reckon. Say, you 'ain't been left +here for good? I saw the gang of Injuns, clean across the country, +from up on the ridge. It must be the last of their drives. That it? +And you got left?" + +The little chap looked up at him seriously and winked his big, brown +eyes, but he shut his tiny mouth perhaps a trifle tighter than before. +As a matter of fact, the miner expected some such stoical silence. + +The pup, for his part, was making advances of friendship towards the +motionless rabbits. + +"Wal, say, Piute," added Jim, after scanning the country with his +kindly eyes, "I reckon you'd better go home with me to Borealis. The +Injuns wouldn't look to find you now, and you can't go on settin' here +a waitin' for pudding and gravy to pass up the road for dinner. What +do you say? Want to come with me and ride on the outside seat to +Borealis?" + +Considerably to the man's amazement the youngster nodded a timid +affirmative. + +"By honky, Tintoretto, I'll bet he savvies English as well as you," +said Jim. "All right, Borealis or bust! I reckon a man who travels +twenty miles to git him a pup, and comes back home with you and this +here young Piute, is as good as elected to office. Injun, what's your +name?" + +The tiny man apparently had nothing to impart by way of an answer. + +"'Ain't got any, maybe," commented Jim. "What's the matter with me +namin' you, hey? Suppose I call you Aborigineezer? All in favor, ay! +Contrary minded? Carried unanimously and the motion prevails." + +The child, for some unaccountable reason, seemed appalled. + +"We can't freight all them rabbits," decided the miner. "And, +Tintoretto, you are way-billed to do some walkin'." + +He took up the child, who continued to cling to the ears of his one +particular hare. As all the jacks were tied together, all were lifted +and were dangling down against the miner's legs. + +"Huh! you can tell what some people want by the way they hang right +on," said Jim. "Wal, no harm in lettin' you stick to one. We can eat +him for dinner to-morrow, I guess, and save his hide in the bargain." + +He therefore cut the buckskin thong and all but one of the rabbits fell +to the earth, on top of Tintoretto, who thought he was climbed upon by +half a dozen bears. He let out a yowp that scared himself half into +fits, and, scooting from under the danger, turned about and flung a +fearful challenge of barking at the prostrate enemy. + +"Come on, unlettered ignoramus," said his master, and, holding the +wondering little foundling on his arm, with his rabbit still clutched +by the ears, he proceeded down to the roadway, scored like a narrow +gray streak through the brush, and plodded onward towards the +mining-camp of Borealis. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +JIM MAKES DISCOVERIES + +It was dark and there were five miles of boot-tracks and seven miles of +pup-tracks left in the sand of the road when Jim, Tintoretto, and +Aborigineezer came at length to a point above the small constellation +of lights that marked the spot where threescore of men had builded a +town. + +From the top of the ridge they had climbed, the man and the pup alone +looked down on the camp, for the weary little "Injun" had fallen +asleep. Had he been awake, the all to be seen would have been of +little promise. Great, sombre mountains towered darkly up on every +side, roofed over by an arch of sky amazingly brilliant with stars. +Below, the darkness was the denser for the depth of the hollow in the +hills. Vaguely the one straight street of Borealis was indicated by +the lamps, like a thin Milky Way in a meagre universe of lesser lights, +dimly glowing and sparsely scattered on the rock-strewn acclivities. + +From down there came the sounds of life. Half-muffled music, raucous +singing, blows of a hammer, yelpings of a dog, hissing of steam +escaping somewhere from a boiler--all these and many other disturbances +of the night furnished a microcosmic medley of the toiling, playing, +hoping, and fearing, where men abide, creating that frailest and yet +most enduring of frailties--a human community. + +The sight of his town could furnish no novelties to the miner on top of +the final rise, and feeling somewhat tired by the weight of his small +companion, as well as hungry from his walking, old Jim skirted the +rocky slope as best he might, and so came at length to an isolated +cabin. + +This dark little house was built in the brush, quite up on the hill +above the town, and not far away from a shallow ravine where a trickle +of water from a spring had encouraged a straggling growth of willows, +alders, and scrub. Some four or five acres of hill-side about the +place constituted the "Babylonian Glory" mining-claim, which Jim +accounted his, and which had seen about as much of his labor as might +be developed by digging for gold in a barrel. + +"Nobody home," said the owner to his dog, as he came to the door and +shouldered it open. "Wal, all the more for us." + +That any one might have been at home in the place was accounted for +simply by the fact that certain worthies, playing in and out of luck, +as the wheel of fate might turn them down or up, sometimes lived with +Jim for a month at a time, and sometimes left him in solitude for +weeks. One such transient partner he had left at the cabin when he +started off to get the pup now tagging at his heels. This +house-partner, having departed, might and might not return, either now, +a week from now, or ever. + +The miner felt his way across the one big room which the shack +afforded, and came to a series of bunks, built like a pantry against +the wall. Into one of these he rolled his tiny foundling, after which +he lighted a candle that stood in a bottle, and revealed the smoky +interior of the place. + +Three more of the bunks were built in the eastern end of the room; a +fireplace occupied a portion of the wall against the hill; a table +stood in the centre of the floor, and a number of mining tools littered +a corner. Cooking utensils were strewn on the table liberally, while +others hung against the wall or depended from hooks in the chimney. +This was practically all there was, but the place was home. + +Tintoretto, beholding his master preparing a fire to heat up some food, +delved at once into everything and every place where a wet little nose +could be thrust. Having snorted in the dusty corners, he trotted to +the bench whereon the water-bucket stood, and, standing on his hind +legs, gratefully lapped up a drink from the pail. His thirst appeased, +he clambered ambitiously into one of the bunks, discovered a nice pair +of boots, and, dragging one out on the floor, proceeded to carry it +under the table and to chew it as heartily as possible. + +There was presently savory smoke, sufficient for an army, in the place, +while sounds of things sizzling made music for the hungry. The miner +laid bare a section of the table, which he set with cups, plates, and +iron tools for eating. He then dished up two huge supplies of steaming +beans and bacon, two monster cups of coffee, black as tar, and cut a +giant pile of dun-colored bread. + +"Aborigineezer," he said, "the banquet waits." + +Thereupon he fetched his weary little guest to the board and attempted +to seat him on a stool. The tiny man tried to open his eyes, but the +effort failed. Had he been awake and sitting erect on the seat +provided for his use, his head could hardly have come to the level of +the supper. + +"Can't you come to, long enough to eat?" inquired the much-concerned +miner. "No? Wal, that's too bad. Couldn't drink the coffee or go the +beans? H'm, I guess I can't take you down to show you off to the boys +to-night. You'll have to git to your downy couch." He returned the +slumbering child to the bunk, where he tucked him into the blankets. + +Tintoretto did ample justice to the meal, however, and filled in so +thoroughly that his round little pod of a stomach was a burden to +carry. He therefore dropped himself down on the floor, breathed out a +sigh of contentment, and shut his two bright eyes. + +Old Jim concluded a feast that made those steaming heaps of food +diminish to the point of vanishing. He sat there afterwards, leaning +his grizzled head upon his hand and looking towards the bunk where the +tiny little chap he had found was peacefully sleeping. The fire burned +low in the chimney; the candle sank down in its socket. On the floor +the pup was twitching in his dreams. Outside the peace, too vast to be +ruffled by puny man, had settled on all that tremendous expanse of +mountains. + +When his candle was about to expire the miner deliberately prepared +himself for bed, and crawled in the bunk with his tiny guest, where he +slept like the pup and the child, so soundly that nothing could suffice +to disturb his dreams. + +The arrows of the sun itself, flung from the ridge of the opposite +hills, alone dispelled the slumbers in the cabin. + +The hardy old Jim arose from his blankets, and presently flung the door +wide open. + +"Come in," he said to the day. "Come in." + +The pup awoke, and, running out, barked in a crazy way of gladness. +His master washed his face and hands at a basin just outside the door, +and soon had breakfast piping hot. By then it was time to look to +Aborigineezer. To Jim's delight the little man was wide awake and +looking at him gravely from the blankets, his funny old cap still in +place on his head, pulled down over his ears. + +"Time to wash for breakfast," announced the miner. "But I don't +guarantee the washin' will be the kind that mother used to give," and +taking his tiny foundling in his arms he carried him out to the basin +by the door. + +For a moment he looked in doubt at the only apology for a wash-rag the +shanty afforded. + +"Wal, it's an awful dirty cloth that you can't put a little more +blackness on, I reckon," he drawled, and dipping it into the water he +rubbed it vigorously across the gasping little fellow's face. + +Then, indeed, the man was astounded. A wide streak, white as milk, had +appeared on the baby countenance. + +"Pierce my pearls!" exclaimed the miner, "if ever I saw a rag in my +shack before that would leave a white mark on anything! Say!" And he +took off the youngster's old fur cap. + +He was speechless for a moment, for the little fellow's hair was as +brown as a nut. + +"I snum!" said Jim, wiping the wondering little face in a sort of fever +of discovery and taking off color at every daub with the rag. "White +kid--painted! Ain't an Injun by a thousand miles!" + +And this was the truth. A timid little paleface, fair as dawn itself, +but smeared with color that was coming away in blotches, emerged from +the process of washing and gazed with his big, brown eyes at his +foster-parent, in a way that made the miner weak with surprise. Such a +pretty and wistful little armful of a boy he was certain had never been +seen before in all the world. + +"I snum! I certainly snum!" he said again. "I'll have to take you +right straight down to the boys!" + +At this the little fellow looked at him appealingly. His lip began to +tremble. + +"No-body--wants--me," he said, in baby accents, +"no-body--wants--me--anywhere." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE WAY TO MAKE A DOLL + +For a moment after the quaint little pilgrim had spoken, the miner +stared at him almost in awe. Had a gold nugget dropped at his feet +from the sky his amazement could scarcely have been greater. + +"What's that?" he said. "Nobody wants you, little boy? What's the +matter with me and the pup?" And taking the tiny chap up in his arms +he sat in the doorway and held him snugly to his rough, old heart and +rocked back and forth, in a tumult of feeling that nothing could +express. + +"Little pard," he said, "you bet me and Tintoretto want you, right +here." + +For his part, Tintoretto thumped the house and the step and the miner's +shins with the clumsy tail that was wagging his whole puppy body. Then +he clambered up and pushed his awkward paws in the little youngster's +face, and licked his ear and otherwise overwhelmed him with attentions, +till his master pushed him off. At this he growled and began to chew +the big, rough hand that suppressed his demonstrations. + +In lieu of the ears of the rabbit to which he had clung throughout the +night, the silent little man on the miner's knee was holding now to +Jim's enormous fist, which he found conveniently supplied. He said +nothing more, and for quite a time old Jim was content to watch his +baby face. + +"A white little kid--that nobody wants--but me and Tintoretto," he +mused, aloud, but to himself. "Where did you come from, pardner, +anyhow?" + +The tiny foundling made no reply. He simply looked at the thin, kindly +face of his big protector in his quaint, baby way, but kept his solemn +little mouth peculiarly closed. + +The miner tried a score of questions, tenderly, coaxingly, but never a +thing save that confident clinging to his hand and a nod or a shake of +the head resulted. + +By some means, quite his own, the man appeared to realize that the +grave little fellow had never prattled as children usually do, and that +what he had said had been spoken with difficulties, only overcome by +stress of emotion. The mystery of whence a bit of a boy so tiny could +have come, and who he was, especially after his baby statement that +nobody wanted him, anywhere, remained unbroken, after all the miner's +queries. Jim was at length obliged to give it up. + +"Do you like that little dog?" he said, as Tintoretto renewed his +overtures of companionship. "Do you like old brother Jim and the pup?" + +Solemnly the little pilgrim nodded. + +"Want some breakfast, all pretty, in our own little house?" + +Once more the quaint and grave little nod was forthcoming. + +"All right. We'll have it bustin' hot in the shake of a crockery +animal's tail," announced the miner. + +He carried the mite of a man inside and placed him again in the bunk, +where the little fellow found his rabbit and drew it into his arms. + +The banquet proved to be a repetition of the supper of the night +before, except that two great flapjacks were added to the menu, greased +with fat from the bacon and sprinkled a half-inch thick with soft brown +sugar. + +When the cook fetched his hungry little guest to the board the rabbit +came as well. + +"You ought to have a dolly," decided Jim, with a knowing nod. "If only +I had the ingenuity I could make one, sure," and throughout the meal he +was planning the manufacture of something that should beat the whole +wide world for cleverness. + +The result of his cogitation was that he took no time for washing the +dishes after breakfast, but went to work at once to make a doll. The +initial step was to take the hide from the rabbit. Sadly but +unresistingly the little pilgrim resigned his pet, and never expected +again to possess the comfort of its fur against his face. + +With the skin presently rolled up in a nice light form, however, the +miner was back in the cabin, looking for something of which to fashion +a body and head for the lady-to-be. There seemed to be nothing handy, +till he thought of a peeled potato for the lady's head and a big metal +powder-flask to supply the body. + +Unfortunately, as potatoes were costly, the only tuber they had in the +house was a weazened old thing that parted with its wrinkled skin +reluctantly and was not very white when partially peeled. However, Jim +pared off enough of its surface on which to make a countenance, and +left the darker hide above to form the dolly's hair. He bored two +eyes, a nose, and a mouth in the toughened substance, and blackened +them vividly with soot from the chimney. After this he bored a larger +hole, beneath the chin, and pushed the head thus created upon the metal +spout of the flask, where it certainly stuck with firmness. + +With a bit of cord the skin of the rabbit was now secured about the +neck and body of the lady's form, and her beauty was complete. That +certain particles of powder rattled lightly about in her graceful +interior only served to render her manners more animated and her person +more like good, lively company, for Jim so decided himself. + +"There you are. That's the prettiest dolly you ever saw anywhere," +said he, as he handed it over to the willing little chap. "And she all +belongs to you." + +The mite of a boy took her hungrily to his arms, and Jim was peculiarly +affected. + +"Do you want to give her a name?" he said. + +Slowly the quaint little pilgrim shook his head. + +"Have you got a name?" the miner inquired, as he had a dozen times +before. + +This time a timid nod was forthcoming. + +"Oh," said Jim, in suppressed delight. "What is your nice little name?" + +For a moment coyness overtook the tiny man. Then he faintly replied, +"Nu-thans." + +"Nuisance?" repeated the miner, and again he saw the timid little nod. + +"But that ain't a name," said Jim. "Is 'Nuisance' all the name the +baby's got?" + +His bit of a guest seemed to think very hard, but at last he nodded as +before. + +"Well, string my pearls," said the miner to himself, "if somebody +'ain't been mean and low!" He added, cheerfully, "Wal, it's easier to +live down a poor name than it is to live up to a fine one, any day, but +we'll name you somethin' else, I reckon, right away. And ain't that +dolly nice?" + +The two were in the midst of appreciating the charms of her ladyship +when the cabin door was abruptly opened and in came a coatless, fat, +little, red-headed man, puffing like a bellows and pulling down his +shirtsleeves with a great expenditure of energy, only to have them +immediately crawl back to his elbows. + +"Hullo, Keno," drawled the lanky Jim. "I thought you was mad and gone +away and died." + +"Me? Not me!" puffed the visitor. + +"What's that?" and he nodded himself nearly off his balance towards the +tiny guest he saw upon a stool. + +With a somewhat belated bark, Tintoretto suddenly came out from his +boot-chewing contest underneath the table and gave the new-comer an +apoplectic start. + +"Hey!" he cried. "Hey! By jinks! a whole menajry!" + +"That's the pup," said Jim. "And, Keno, here's a poor little skeezucks +that I found a-sittin' in the brush, 'way over to Coyote Valley. I +fetched him home last night, and I was just about to take him down to +camp and show him to the boys." + +"By jinks!" said Keno. "Alive!" + +"Alive and smart as mustard," said the suddenly proud possessor of a +genuine surprise. "You bet he's smart! I've often noticed how there +never yet was any other kind of a baby. That's one consolation left to +every fool man livin'--he was once the smartest baby in the world," + +"Alive!" repeated Keno, as before. "I'm goin' right down and tell the +camp!" + +He bolted out at the door like a shot, and ran down the hill to +Borealis with all his might. + +Aware that the news would be spread like a sprinkle of rain, the lanky +Jim put on his hat with a certain jaunty air of importance, and taking +the grave little man on his arm, with the new-made doll and the pup for +company, he followed, where Keno had just disappeared from view, down +the slope. + +A moment later the town was in sight, and groups of flannel-shirted, +dusty-booted, slouchily attired citizens were discernible coming out of +buildings everywhere. + +Running up the hill again, puffing with added explosiveness, Keno could +hardly contain his excitement. + +"I've told em!" he panted. "They know he's alive and smart as mustard!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +PLANNING A NEW CELEBRATION + +The cream, as it were, of the population of the mining-camp were ready +to receive the group from up on the hill. There were nearly twenty men +in the delegation, representing every shade of inelegance. Indeed, +they demonstrated beyond all argument that the ways of looking rough +and unkempt are infinite. There were tall and short who were rough, +bearded and shaved who were rougher, and washed and unwashed who were +roughest. And there were still many denizens of Borealis not then on +exhibition. + +Webber, the blacksmith; Lufkins, the teamster; Bone, the "barkeep"; +Dunn, the carpenter, and Field, who had first discovered precious ore +at Borealis, and sold out his claims for a gold watch and chain--which +subsequently proved to be brass--all these and many another shining +light of the camp could be counted in the modest assemblage gathered +together to have a look at the "kid" just reported by Keno. + +Surprise had been laid on double, in the town, by the news of what had +occurred. In the first place, it was almost incredible that old +"If-only" Jim had actually made his long-threatened pilgrimage to fetch +his promised pup, but to have him back here, not only with the dog in +question, but also with a tiny youngster found at the edge of the +wilderness, was far too much to comprehend. + +In a single bound, old Jim had been elevated to a starry firmament of +importance, from wellnigh the lowest position of insignificance in the +camp, attained by his general worthlessness and shiftlessness--of mind +and demeanor--which qualities had passed into a proverb of the place. +Procrastination, like a cuckoo, had made its nest in his pockets, where +the hands of Jim would hatch its progeny. Labor and he abhorred each +other mightily. He had never been known to strike a lick of work till +larder and stomach were both of them empty and credit had taken to the +hills. He drawled in his speech till the opening parts of the good +resolutions he frequently uttered were old and forgotten before the +remainders were spoken. He loitered in his walk, said the boys, till +he clean forgot whether he was going up hill or down. "Hurry," he had +always said, by way of a motto, "is an awful waste of time that a +feller could go easy in." + +Yet in his shambling, easy-going way, old Jim had drifted into nearly +every heart in the camp. His townsmen knew he had once had a good +education, for outcroppings thereof jutted from his personality even as +his cheek-bones jutted out of his russet old countenance. + +Not by any means consenting to permit old Jim to understand how +astonishment was oozing from their every pore, the men brought forth by +Keno's news could not, however, entirely mask their incredulity and +interest. As Jim came deliberately down the trail, with the pale +little foundling on his arm, he was greeted with every possible term of +familiarity, to all of which he drawled a response in kind. + +Not a few in the group of citizens pulled off their hats at the nearer +approach of the child, then somewhat sheepishly put them on again. +With stoical resolutions almost immediately upset, they gathered +closely in about the miner and his tiny companion, crowding the +red-headed Keno away from his place of honor next to the child. + +The quaint little pilgrim, in his old, fur cap and long, "man's" +trousers, looked at the men in a grave way of doubt and questioning. + +"It's a sure enough kid, all the same," said one of the men, as if he +had previously entertained some doubts of the matter. "And ain't he +white!" + +"Of course a white kid's white," answered the barkeep, scornfully. + +"Awful cute little shaver," said another. "By cracky, Jim, you must +have had him up yer sleeve for a week! He don't look more'n about one +week old." + +"Aw, listen to the man afraid to know anything about anything!" broke +in the blacksmith. "One week! He's four or five months, or I'm a +woodchuck." + +"You kin tell by his teeth," suggested a leathery individual, stroking +his bony jaw knowingly. "I used to be up on the game myself, but I'm a +little out of practice jest at present." + +"Shut up, you scare him, Shaky," admonished the teamster. "He's a +pretty little chipmunk. Jim, wherever did you git him?" + +Jim explained every detail of his trip to fetch the pup, stretching out +his story of finding the child and bringing him hither, with pride in +every item of his wonderful performance. His audience listened with +profound attention, broken only by an occasional exclamation. + +"Old If-only Jim! Old son-of-a-sea-cook!" repeated one, time after +time. + +Meanwhile the silent little man himself was clinging to the miner's +flannel collar with all his baby strength. With shy little glances he +scanned the members of the group, and held the tighter to the one safe +anchorage in which he seemed to feel a confidence. A number of the +rough men furtively attempted a bit of coquetry, to win the favor of a +smile. + +"You don't mean, Jim, you found him jest a-settin' right in the bresh, +with them dead jack-rabbits lyin' all 'round?" insisted the carpenter. + +"That's what," said Jim, and reluctantly he brought the tale to its +final conclusion, adding his theory of the loss of the child by the +Indians on their hunt, and bearing down hard on the one little speech +that the tiny foundling had made just this morning. + +The rough men were silenced by this. One by one they took off their +hats again, smoothed their hair, and otherwise made themselves a trifle +prettier to look upon. + +"Well, what you goin' to do with him, Jim?" inquired Field, after a +moment. + +"Oh, I'll grow him up," said Jim. "And some day I'll send him to +college." + +"College be hanged!" said Field. "A lot of us best men in Borealis +never went to college--and we're proud of it!" + +"So the little feller said nobody wanted him, did he?" asked the +blacksmith. "Well, I wouldn't mind his stayin' 'round the shop. Where +do you s'pose he come from first? And painted like a little Piute +Injun! No wonder he's a scared little tike." + +"I ain't the one which scares him," announced a man whose hair, beard, +and eyes all stuck out amazingly. "If I'd 'a' found him first he'd +like me same as he takes to Jim." + +"Speakin' of catfish, where the little feller come from original is +what gits to me," said Field, the father of Borealis, reflectively. +"You see, if he's four or five months old, why he's sure undergrowed. +You could drink him up in a cupful of coffee and never even cough. And +bein' undergrowed, why, how could he go on a rabbit-drive along with +the Injuns? I'll bet you there's somethin' mysterious about his +origin." + +"Huh! Don't you jump onto no little shaver's origin when you 'ain't +got any too much to speak of yourself," the blacksmith commanded. +"He's as big as any little skeezucks of his size!" + +"Kin he read an' write?" asked a person of thirty-six, who had "picked +up" the mentioned accomplishments at the age of thirty-five. + +"He's alive and smart as mustard!" put in Keno, a champion by right of +prior acquaintance with the timid little man. + +"Wal, that's all right, but mustard don't do no sums in 'rithmetic," +said the bar-keep. "I'm kind of stuck, myself, on this here pup." + +Tintoretto had been busily engaged making friends in any direction most +handily presented. He wound sinuously out of the barkeep's reach, +however, with pup-wise discrimination. The attention of the company +was momentarily directed to the small dog, who came in for not a few of +the camp's outspoken compliments. + +"He's mebbe all right, but he's homely as Aunt Marier comin' through +the thrashin'-machine," decided the teamster. + +The carpenter added: "He's so all-fired awkward he can't keep step with +hisself." + +"Wal, he ain't so rank in his judgment as some I could indicate," +drawled Jim, prepared to defend both pup and foundling to the last +extent. "At least, he never thought he was smart, abscondin' with a +little free sample of a brain." + +"What kind of a mongrel is he, anyway?" inquired Bone. + +"Thorough-breed," replied old Jim. "There ain't nothing in him but +dog." + +The blacksmith was still somewhat longingly regarding the pale little +man who continued to cling to the miner's collar. "What's his name?" +said he. + +"Tintoretto," answered Jim, still on the subject of his yellowish pup. + +"Tintoretto?" said the company, and they variously attacked the +appropriateness of any such a "handle." + +"What fer did you ever call him that?" asked Bone. + +"Wal, I thought he deserved it," Jim confessed. + +"Poor little kid--that's all I've got to say," replied the +compassionate blacksmith. + +"That ain't the kid's name," corrected Jim, with alacrity. "That's +what I call the pup." + +"That's worse," said Field. "For he's a dumb critter and can't say +nothing back." + +"But what's the little youngster's name?" inquired the smith, once +again. + +"Yes, what's the little shaver's name?" echoed the teamster. "If it's +as long as the pup's, why, give us only a mile or two at first, and the +rest to-morrow." + +"I was goin' to name him 'Aborigineezer,'" Jim admitted, somewhat +sheepishly. "But he ain't no Piute Injun, so I can't." + +"Hard-hearted ole sea-serpent!" ejaculated Field. "No wonder he looks +like cryin'." + +"Oh, he ain't goin' to cry," said the blacksmith, roughly patting the +frightened little pilgrim's cheek with his great, smutty hand. "What's +he got to cry about, now he's here in Borealis?" + +"Well, leave him cry, if he wants to," said the fat little Keno. "I +'ain't heard a baby cry fer six or seven years." + +"Go off in a corner and cry in your pocket, and leave it come out as +you want it," suggested Bone. "Jim, you said the little feller kin +talk?" + +"Like a greasy dictionary," said Jim, proudly. + +"Well, start him off on somethin' stirrin'." + +"You can't start a little youngster off a-talkin' when you want to, any +more than you can start a turtle runnin' to a fire," drawled Jim, +sagely. + +"Then, kin he walk?" insisted the bar-keep. + +Jim said, "What do you s'pose he's wearin' pants for, if he couldn't?" + +"Put him down and leave us see him, then." + +"This ain't no place for a child to be walkin' 'round loose," objected +the gray old miner. "He'll walk some other time." + +"Aw, put him down," coaxed the smith. "We'd like to see a little +feller walk. There's never bin no such a sight in Borealis." + +"Yes, put him down!" chorused the crowd. + +"We'll give him plenty of elbow-room," added Webber. "Git back there, +boys, and give him a show." + +As the group could be satisfied with nothing less, and Jim was aware of +their softer feelings, he disengaged the tiny hand that was closed on +his collar and placed his tiny charge upon his feet in the road. + +How very small, indeed, he looked in his quaint little trousers and his +old fur cap! + +Instantly he threw the one little arm not engaged with the furry doll +about the big, dusty knee of his known protector, and buried his face +in the folds of the rough, blue overalls. + +"Aw, poor little tike!" said one of the men. "Take him back up, Jim. +Anyway, you 'ain't yet told us his name, and how kin any little shaver +walk which ain't got a name?" + +Jim took the mere little toy of a man again in his arms and held him +close against his heart. + +"He 'ain't really got any name," he confessed. "If only I had the +poetic vocabulary I'd give him a high-class out-and-outer." + +"What's the matter with a good old home-made name like Si or Hank or +Zeke?" inquired Field, who had once been known as Hank himself. + +"They ain't good enough," objected Jim. "If only I can git an +inspiration I'll fit him out like a barn with a bran'-new coat of +paint." + +"Well, s'pose--" started Keno, but what he intended to say was never +concluded. + +"What's the fight?" interrupted a voice, and the men shuffled aside to +give room to a well-dressed, dapper-looking man. It was Parky, the +gambler. He was tall, and easy of carriage, and cultivated a curving +black mustache. In his scarf he wore a diamond as large as a marble. +At his heels a shivering little black-and-tan dog, with legs no larger +than pencils and with a skull of secondary importance to its eyes, +followed him mincingly into the circle and stood beside his feet with +its tail curved in under its body. + +"What have you got? Huh! Nothing but a kid!" said the gambler, in +supreme contempt. + +"And a pup!" said Keno, aggressively. + +The gambler ignored the presence of the child, especially as Tintoretto +bounded clumsily forward and bowled his own shaking effigy of a canine +endways in one glad burst of friendship. + +The black-and-tan let out a feeble yelp. With his boot the gambler +threw Tintoretto six feet away, where he landed on his feet and turned +about growling and barking in puppywise questioning of this sudden +manoeuvre. With a few more staccato yelps, the shivering black-and-tan +retreated behind the gambler's legs. + +"Of all the ugly brutes I ever seen," said Parky, "that's the worst +yellow flea-trap of the whole caboose." + +"Wal, I don't know," drawled Jim, as he patted his timid little pilgrim +on the back in a way of comfort. "All dogs look alike to a flea, and I +reckon Tintoretto is as good flea-feed as the next. And, anyhow, I +wouldn't have a dog the fleas had deserted. When the fleas desert a +dog, it's the same as when the rats desert a ship. About that time a +dog has lost his doghood, and then he ain't no better than a man who's +lost his manhood." + +"Aw, I'd thump you and the cur together if you didn't have that kid on +deck," sneered the gambler. + +"You couldn't thump a drum," answered Jim, easily. "Come back here, +Tintoretto. Don't you touch that skinny little critter with the +shakes. I wouldn't let you eat no such a sugar-coated insect." + +The crowd was enjoying the set-to of words immensely. They now looked +to Parky for something hot. But the man of card-skill had little wit +of words. + +"Don't git too funny, old boy," he cautioned. "I'd just as soon have +you for breakfast as not." + +"I wish the fleas could say as much for you or your imitation dog," +retorted Jim. "There's just three things in Borealis that go around +smellin' thick of perfume, and you and that little two-ounce package of +dog-degeneration are maybe some worse than the other." + +Parky made a belligerent motion, but Webber, the blacksmith, caught his +arm in a powerful grip. + +"Not to-day," he said. "The boys don't want no gun-play here this +mornin'." + +"You're a lot of old women and babies," said Parky, and pushing through +the group he walked away, a certain graceful insolence in his bearing. + +"Speakin' of catfish," said Field, "we ought to git up some kind of a +celebration to welcome Jim's little skeezucks to the camp." + +"That's the ticket," agreed Bone. "What's the matter with repeatin' +the programme we had for the Fourth of July?" + +"No, we want somethin' new," objected the smith. "It ought to be +somethin' we never had before." + +"Why not wait till Christmas and git good and ready?" said Jim. + +The argument was that Christmas was something more than four weeks away. + +"We've got to have a rousin' big Christmas fer little Skeezucks, +anyhow," suggested Bone. "What sort of a celebration is there that we +'ain't never had in Borealis?" + +"Church," said Keno, promptly. + +This caused a silence for a moment. + +"Guess that's so, but--who wants church?" inquired the teamster. + +"We might git up somethin' worse," said a voice in the crowd. + +"How?" demanded another. + +"It wouldn't be so far off the mark for a little kid like him," +tentatively asserted Field, the father of the camp, "S'pose we give it +a shot?" + +"Anything suits me," agreed the carpenter. "Church might be kind of +decent, after all. Jim, what you got to say 'bout the subject?" + +Jim was still patting the timid little foundling on the back with a +comforting hand. + +"Who'd be preacher?" said he. + +They were stumped for a moment. + +"Why--you," said Keno. "Didn't you find little Skeezucks?" + +"Kerrect," said Bone. "Jim kin talk like a steam fire-engine squirtin' +languages." + +"If only I had the application," said Jim, modestly, "I might git up +somethin' passable. Where could we have it?" + +This was a stumper again. No building in the camp had ever been +consecrated to the uses of religious worship. + +Bone came to the rescue without delay. + +"You kin have my saloon, and not a cent of cost," said he. + +"Bully fer Bone!" said several of the men. + +"Y-e-s, but would it be just the tip-toppest, tippe-bob-royal of a +place?" inquired Field, a little cautiously. + +"What's the matter with it?" said Bone. "When it's church it's church, +and I guess it would know the way to behave! If there's anything +better, trot it out." + +"You can come to the shop if it suits any better," said the blacksmith. +"It 'ain't got no floor of gold, and there ain't nothing like wings, +exceptin' wheels, but the fire kin be kept all day to warm her up, and +there's plenty of room fer all which wants to come." + +"If I'm goin' to do the preachin',' I'd like the shop first rate," said +Jim. "What day is to-day?" + +"Friday," replied the teamster. + +"All right. Then we'll say on Sunday we celebrate with church in +Webber's blacksmith shop," agreed old Jim, secretly delighted beyond +expression. "We won't git gay with anything too high-falootin', but +we'd ought to git Shorty Hobb to show up with his fiddle." + +"Certain!" assented the barkeep. "You kin leave that part of the game +to me." + +"If we've got it all settled, I reckon I'll go back up to the shack," +said Jim. "The little feller 'ain't had a chance yet to play with his +doll." + +"Is that a doll?" inquired the teamster, regarding the grave little +pilgrim's bundle of fur in curiosity. "How does he know it's a doll?" + +"He knows a good sight more than lots of older people," answered Jim. +"And if only I've got the gumption I'll make him a whole slough of toys +and things." + +"Well, leave us say good-bye to him 'fore you go," said the blacksmith. +"Does he savvy shakin' hands?" + +He gave a little grip to the tiny hand that held the doll, and all the +others did the same. Little Skeezucks looked at them gravely, his +quaint baby face playing havoc with their rough hearts. + +"Softest little fingers I ever felt," said Webber. "I'd give twenty +dollars if he'd laugh at me once." + +"Awful nice little shaver," said another. + +"I once had a mighty touchin' story happen to me, myself," said Keno, +solemnly. + +"What was it?" inquired a sympathetic miner. + +"Couldn't bear to tell it--not this mornin'," said Keno. "Too +touchin'." + +"Good-bye fer just at present, little Skeezucks," said Field, and, +suddenly divesting himself of his brazen watch and chain, he offered it +up as a gift, with spontaneous generosity. "Want it, Skeezucks?" said +he. "Don't you want to hear it go?" + +The little man would relax neither his clutch on Jim's collar nor his +hold of his doll, wherefore he had no hand with which to accept the +present. + +"Do you think he runs a pawn-shop, Field?" said the teamster. "Put it +back." + +The men all guffawed in their raucous way. + +"Keeps mighty good time, all the same," said Field, and he re-swung the +chain, like a hammock, from the parted wings of his vest, and dropped +the huskily ticking guardian of the minutes back to its place in his +pocket. + +"Watches that don't keep perfect time," drawled Jim, "are scarcer than +wimmin who tell their age on the square." + +"Better come over, Jim, and have a drink," suggested the barkeep. +"You're sure one of the movin' spirits of Borealis." + +"No, I don't think I'll start the little feller off with the drinkin' +example," replied the miller. "You'll often notice that the men who +git the name of bein' movin' spirits is them that move a good deal of +whiskey into their interior department. I reckon we'll mosey home the +way we are." + +"I guess I'll join you up above," said the fat little Keno, pulling +stoutly at his sleeves. "You'll need me, anyway, to cut some brush fer +the fire." + +With tiny Skeezucks gravely looking backward at the group of men all +waving their hats in a rough farewell, old Jim started proudly up the +trail that led to the Babylonian Glory claim, with Tintoretto romping +awkwardly at his heels. + +Suddenly, Webber, the blacksmith, left the groups and ran quickly after +them up the slope. + +"Say, Jim," he said. "I thought, perhaps, if you reckoned little +Skeezucks ought to bunk down here in town--why--I wouldn't mind if you +fetched him over to the house. There's plenty of room." + +"Wal, not to-day I won't," said Jim. "But thank you, Webber, all the +same." + +"All right, but if you change your mind it won't be no trouble at all," +and, not a little disappointed, the smith waved once more to the little +pilgrim on the miner's arm and went back down the hill. + +Then up spoke Keno. + +"Bone and Lufkins both wanted me to tell you, Jim, if you happen to +want a change fer little Skeezucks, you can fetch him down to them," he +said. "But of course we ain't agoin' to let 'em have our little kid in +no great shakes of a hurry." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +VISITORS AT THE CABIN + +When Jim and his company had disappeared from view up the rock-strewn +slope, the men left below remained in a group, to discuss not only the +marvellous advent of a genuine youngster in Borealis, but likewise the +fitness of old If-only Jim as a foster-parent. + +"I wouldn't leave him raise a baby rattlesnake of mine," said Field, +whose watch had not been accepted by the foundling. "In fact, there +ain't but a few of us here into camp which knows the funderments of +motherhood, anyhow." + +"I don't mind givin' Jim a few little pointers on the racket," +responded Bone. "Never knew Jim yet to chuck out my advice. + +"He's too lazy to chuck it," vouchsafed the teamster. "He just lets it +trickle out and drip." + +"Well, we'll watch him, that's all," Field remarked, with a knowing +squint in his eyes, and employing a style he would not have dared to +parade in the hearing of Jim. "Borealis has come to her formaline +period, and she can't afford to leave this child be raised extraneous. +It's got to be done with honor and glory to the camp, even if we have +to take the kid away from Jim complete." + +"He found the little skeezucks, all the same," the blacksmith reminded +them. "That counts for somethin'. He's got a right to keep him for a +while, at least, unless the mother should heave into town." + +"Or the dad," added Lufkins. + +"Shoot the dad!" answered Bone. "A dad which would let a little feller +small as him git lost in the brush don't deserve to git him back." + +"Mysterious case, sure as lizards is insects," said an individual +heretofore silent. "I guess I'll go and tell Miss Doc Dennihan." + +"'Ain't Miss Doc bin told--and her the only decent woman in the camp?" +inquired Field. "I'll go along and see you git it right." + +"No Miss Doc in mine," said the smith. + +"I'll git back and blow my fire up before she's plump dead out. +Fearful vinegar Miss Doc would make if ever she melted." + +Miss Dennihan, sister of "Doc" Dennihan, was undeniably If-only Jim's +exact antithesis--a scrupulously tidy, exacting lady, so severe in her +virtues and so acrid in denunciations of the lack of down-east +circumspection that nearly every man in camp shied off from her abode +as he might have shied from a bath in nitric acid. Six months prior to +this time she had come to Borealis from the East, unexpectedly plumping +down upon her brother "Doc" with all her moral fixity of purpose, not +only to his great distress of mind, but also to that of all his +acquaintances as well. She had raided the ethical standing of miners, +teamsters, and men-about-town; she had outwardly and inwardly condemned +the loose and indecorous practices of the camp; she had made herself an +accusing hand, as it were, pointing out the road to perdition which all +and sundry of the citizens of Borealis, including "Doc," were +travelling. If-only Jim had promptly responded to her natural +antipathy to all that he represented, and the strained relations +between the pair had furnished much amusement for the male population +of the place. + +It was now to this lady that Field and his friend proposed a visit. +The group of men broke up, and the news that each one had to tell of +the doings of Jim was widely spread; and the wonder increased till it +stretched to the farthest confines of the place. Then as fast as the +miners and other laborers, who were busy with work, could get away for +a time sufficiently long, they made the pilgrimage up the slope to the +cabin where the tiny foundling had domicile. They found the timid +little man seated, with his doll, on the floor, from which he watched +them gravely, in his baby way. + +Half the honors of receiving the groups and showing off the quaint +little Skeezucks were assumed by Keno, with a grace that might have +been easy had he not been obliged to pull down his shirt-sleeves with +such exasperating frequency. + +But Jim was the hero of the hour, as he very well knew. Time after +time, and ever with thrilling new detail and added incident, he +recounted the story of his find, gradually robbing even Tintoretto, the +pup, of such of the glory as he really had earned. + +The pup, however, was recklessly indifferent. He could pile up fresh +glories every minute by bowling the little pilgrim on his back and +walking on his chest to lap his ear. This he proceeded to do, in his +clumsy way of being friendly, with a regularity only possible to an +enthusiast. And every time he did it anew, either Keno or Jim or a +visitor would shy something at him and call him names. This, however, +only served to incite him to livelier antics of licking everybody's +face, wagging himself against the furniture, and dragging the various +bombarding missiles between the legs of all the company. + +There were men, who apparently had nothing else to do, who returned to +the cabin on the hill with every new visiting deputation. A series of +ownership in and familiarity with the grave little chap and his story +came upon them rapidly. Field, the father of Borealis, was the most +assiduous guide the camp afforded. By afternoon he knew more about the +child than even Jim himself. + +For his part, the lanky Jim sat on a stool, looking wiser than Solomon +and Moses rolled in one, and greeted his wondering acquaintances with a +calm and dignity that his oneness in the great event was magnifying +hourly. That such an achievement as finding a lost little pilgrim in +the wilderness might be expected of his genius every day was firmly +impressed upon himself, if not on all who came. + +"Speakin' of catfish, Jim thinks he's hoein' some potatoes." said Field +to a group of his friends. "If one of us real live spirits of Borealis +had bin in his place, it's ten to one we'd 'a' found a pair of twins." + +All the remainder of the day, and even after dinner, and up to eight +o'clock in the evening, the new arrivals, or the old ones over again, +made the cabin on the hill their Mecca. + +"Shut the door, Keno, and sit outside, and tell any more that come +along, the show is over for the day," instructed Jim, at last. "The +boy is goin' to bed." + +"Did he bring a nightie?" said Keno. + +"Forgot it, I reckon," answered Jim, as he took the tired little chap +in his arms. "If only I had the enterprise I'd make him one to-night." + +But it never got made. The pretty little armful of a boy went to sleep +with all his baby garments on, the long "man's" trousers and all, and +Jim permitted all to remain in place, for the warmth thereof, he said. +Into the bunk went the tiny bundle of humanity, his doll tightly held +to his breast. + +Then Jim sat down and watched the bunk, till Keno had come inside and +climbed in a bed and begun a serenade. At twelve o'clock the miner was +still awake. He went to his door, and, throwing it open, looked out at +the great, dark mountains and the brilliant sky. + +"If only I had the steam I'd open up the claim and make the little +feller rich," he drawled to himself. Then he closed the door, and, +removing his clothing, got into the berth where his tiny guest was +sleeping, and knew no more till the morning came and a violent knocking +on his window prodded his senses into something that answered for +activity. + +"Come in!" he called. "Come in, and don't waste all that noise." + +The pup awoke and let out a bark. + +In response to the miner's invitation the caller opened the door and +entered. Jim and Keno had their heads thrust out of their bunks, but +the two popped in abruptly at the sight of a tall female figure. She +was homely, a little sharp as to features, and a little near together +and piercing as to eyes. Her teeth were prominent, her mouth +unquestionably generous in dimensions, and a mole grew conspicuously +upon her chin. Nevertheless, she looked, as Jim had once confessed, +"remarkly human." On her head she wore a sun-bonnet. Her black alpaca +dress was as styleless and as shiny as a stovepipe. It was short, +moreover, and therefore permitted a view of a large, flat pair of shoes +on which polish for the stovepipe aforesaid had been lavishly coated. + +It was Miss Doc Dennihan. Having duly heard of the advent of a quaint +little boy, found in the brush by the miner, she had come thus early in +the morning to gratify a certain hunger that her nature felt for the +sight of a child. But always one of the good woman's prides had been +concealment of her feelings, desires, and appetites. She had formed a +habit, likewise, of hiding not a few of her intentions. Instead of +inquiring now for what she sought, she glanced swiftly about the +interior of the cabin and said: + +"Ain't you lazy-joints got up yet in this here cabin?" + +"Been up and hoisted the sun and went back to bed," drawled Jim, while +Keno drew far back in his berth and fortified himself behind his +blankets. "Glad to see you, but sorry you've got to be goin' again so +soon." + +"I 'ain't got to be goin'," corrected the visitor, with decision. "I +jest thought I'd call in and see if your clothin' and kitchen truck was +needin' a woman's hand. Breakfast over to our house is finished and +John has went to work, and everything has bin did up complete, so +'tain't as if I was takin' the time away from John; and this here place +is disgraceful dirty, as I could see with nuthin' but a store eye. Is +these here over-halls your'n?" + +"When I'm in 'em I reckon they are," drawled Jim, in some disquietude +of mind. "But don't you touch 'em! Them pants is heirlooms. Wouldn't +have anybody fool with them for a million dollars." + +"They don't look worth no such a figger," said Miss Dennihan, as she +held them up and scanned them with a critical eye. "They're wantin' a +patch in the knee. It's lucky fer you I toted my bag. I kin always +match overhalls, new or faded." + +Keno slyly ventured to put forth his head, but instantly drew it back +again. + +Jim, in his bunk, was beginning to sweat. He held his little foundling +by the hand and piled up a barrier of blankets before them. That many +another of the male residents of Borealis had been honored by similar +visitations on the part of Miss Doc was quite the opposite of +reassuring. That the lady generally came as a matter of curiosity, and +remained in response to a passion for making things glisten with +cleanliness, he had heard from a score of her victims. He knew she was +here to get her eyes on the grave little chap he was cuddling from +sight, but he had no intention of sharing the tiny pilgrim with any one +whose attentions would, he deemed, afford a trial to the nerves. + +"Seems to me the last time I saw old Doc his shirt needed stitchin' in +the sleeve," he said. "How about that, Keno?" + +Keno was dumb as a clam. + +"You never seen nuthin' of the sort," corrected Miss Doc, with +asperity, and, removing her bonnet, she sat down on a stool, Jim's +overalls in hand and her bag in her lap. "John's mended regular, all +but his hair, and if soap-suds and bear's-grease would patch his top he +wouldn't be bald another day." + +"He ain't exactly bald," drawled the uncomfortable miner. "His hair +was parted down the middle by a stroke of lightnin'. Or maybe you +combed it yourself." + +"Don't you try to git comical with me!" she answered. "I didn't come +here for triflin'." + +Her back being turned towards the end of the room wherein the redheaded +Keno was ensconced, that diffident individual furtively put forth his +hand and clutched up his boots and trousers from the floor. The latter +he managed to adjust as he wormed about in the berth. Then silently, +stealthily, trembling with excitement, he put out his feet, and +suddenly bolting for the door, with his boots in hand, let out a yell +and shot from the house like a demon, the pup at his heels, loudly +barking. + +"Keno! Keno! come back here and stand your share!" bawled Jim, +lustily, but to no avail. + +"Mercy in us!" Miss Doc exclaimed. "That man must be crazy." + +Jim sank back in his bunk hopelessly. + +"It's only his clothes makes him look foolish," he answered. "He's +saner than I am, plain as day." + +"Then it's lucky I came," decided the visitor, vigorously sewing at the +trousers. "The looks of this house is enough to drive any man insane. +You're an ornary, shiftless pack of lazy-joints as ever I seen. Why +don't you git up and cook your breakfast?" + +Perspiration oozed from the modest Jim afresh. + +"I never eat breakfast in the presence of ladies," said he. + +"Well, you needn't mind me. I'm jest a plain, sensible woman," replied +Miss Dennihan. "I don't want to see no feller-critter starve." + +Jim writhed in the blankets. "I didn't s'pose you could stay all day," +he ventured. + +"I kin stay till I mend all your garmints and tidy up this here cabin," +she announced, calmly. "So let your mind rest easy." She meant to see +that child if it took till evening to do so. + +"Maybe I can go to sleep again and dream I'm dead," said Jim, in +growing despair. + +"If you kin, and me around, you can beat brother John all to cream," +she responded, smoothing out the mended overalls and laying them down +on a stool. "Now you kin give me your shirt." + +Jim galvanically gathered the blankets in a tightened noose about his +neck. + +"Hold on!" he said. "Hold on! This shirt is a bran'-new article, and +you'd spoil it if you come within twenty-five yards of it with a +needle." + +"Where's your old one?" she demanded, atilt for something more to +repair. Her gaze searched the bunks swiftly, and Jim was sure she was +looking for the little man behind him. "Where's your old one went?" +she repeated. + +"I turned it over on a friend of mine," drawled Jim, who meant he had +deftly reversed it on himself. "It's a poor shirt that won't work both +ways." + +"Ain't there nuthin' more I kin mend?" she asked. + +"Not unless it's somethin' of Doc's down to your lovely little home." + +"Oh, I ain't agoin' to go, if that's what you're drivin' at," she +answered, as she swiftly assembled the soiled utensils of the cuisine. +"I'll tidy up this here pig-pen if it takes a week, and you kin hop up +and come down easy." + +"I wouldn't have you go for nothing," drawled Jim, squirming with +abnormal impatience to be up and doing. "Angel's visits are comin' +fewer and fewer in a box every day." + +"That's bogus," answered the lady. "I sense your oilin' me over. You +git up and go and git a fresh pail of water." + +"I'd like to," Jim said, convincingly, "but the only time I ever broke +my arm was when I went out for a bucket of water before breakfast." + +"You ain't agoin' is what you mean, with all them come-a-long-way-round +excuses," she conjectured. "You've got the name of bein' the +laziest-jointed, mos' shiftless man into camp." + +"Wal," drawled the helpless miner, "a town without a horrible example +is deader than the spikes in Adam's coffin. And the next best thing to +being a livin' example is to hang around the house where one of 'em +stays in his bunk all mornin'." + +"If that's another of them underhanded hints of your'n, you might as +well save your breath," she replied. "I'll go and git the water +myself, fer them dishes is goin' to git cleaned." + +She took up the bucket at once. Outside, the sounds of some one +scooting rapidly away brought to Jim a thought of Keno's recently +demonstrated presence of mind. + +Cautiously sitting up in the berth, so soon as Miss Doc had disappeared +with the pail, he hurriedly drew on his boots. A sound of returning +footsteps came to his startled ears. He leaped back up in the bunk, +boots and all, and covered himself with the blanket, to the startlement +of the timid little chap, who was sitting there to watch developments. +Both drew down as Miss Doc reappeared in the door. + +"I might as well tote a kettleful, too," she said, and taking that +soot-plated article from its hook in the chimney she once more started +for the spring. + +This time, like a guilty burglar, old Jim crept out to the door. Then +with one quick resolve he caught up his trousers, and snatching his +pale little guest from the berth, flung a blanket about them, sneaked +swiftly out of the cabin, stole around to its rear, and ran with +long-legged awkwardness down through a shallow ravine to the cover of a +huge heap of bowlders, where he paused to finish his toilet. + +"Hoot! Hoot!" sounded furtively from somewhere near. Then Keno came +ducking towards him from below, with Tintoretto in his wake, so +rampantly glad in his puppy heart that he instantly climbed on the +timid little Skeezucks, sitting for convenience on the earth, and +bowled him head over heels. + +"Here, pup, you abate yourself," said Jim. "Be solemnly glad and let +it go at that." And he took up the gasping little chap, whose doll +was, as ever, clasped fondly to his heart. + +"How'd you make it?" inquired Keno. "Has she gone for good?" + +"No, she's gone for water," answered the miner, ruefully. "She's set +on cleanin' up the cabin. I'll bet when she's finished we'll have to +pan the gravel mighty careful to find even a color of our once happy +home." + +"Well, you got away, anyhow," said Keno, consolingly. "You can't have +your cake and eat it too." + +"No, that's the one nasty thing about cake," said Jim. He sat on a +rock and addressed the wondering little pilgrim, who was watching his +face with baby gravity. "Did she scare the boy?" he asked. "Is he +gittin' hungry? Does pardner want some breakfast?" + +The little fellow nodded. + +"What would little Skeezucks like old brother Jim to make for +breakfast?" + +The quaint bit of a man drew a trifle closer to the rough old coat and +timidly answered: + +"Bwead--an'--milk." + +The two men started mildly. + +"By jinks!" said the awe-smitten Keno. "By jinks!--talkin'!" + +"I told you so," said Jim, suppressing his excitement. "Bread and +milk?" he repeated. "Just bread and milk. You poor little shaver! +Wal, that's as easy as oyster stew or apple-dumplin'. Baby want +anything else?" + +The small boy shook a negative. + +"By jinks!" said Keno, as before. "Look at him go it!" + +"I'll make some bread to-day, if ever we git back into Eden," said Jim. +"And I'll make him a lot of things. If only I had the stuff in me I'd +make him a Noah's ark and a train of cars and a fat mince-pie. Would +little Skeezucks like a train of cars?" + +Again the little pilgrim shook his head. + +"Then what more would the baby like?" coaxed the miner. + +Again with his shy little cuddling up the wee man answered, +"Moey--bwead--an'--milk." + +"By jinks!" repeated the flabbergasted Keno, and he pulled at his +sleeves with all his strength. + +"Say, Keno," said Jim, "go find Miss Doc's goat and milk him for the +boy." + +"Miss Doc may be home by now," objected Keno, apprehensively. + +"Well, then, sneak up and see if she has gone off real mad." + +"S'posen she 'ain't?" Keno promptly hedged. "S'posen she seen me?" + +"You've got all out-doors to skedaddle in, I reckon." + +Keno, however, had many objections to any manner of venture with the +wily Miss Dennihan. It took nearly half an hour of argument to get him +up to the brow of the slope. Then, to his uncontainable delight, he +beheld the disgusted and somewhat defeated Miss Doc more than half-way +down the trail to Borealis, and making shoe-tracks with assuring +rapidity. + +"Hoot! Hoot!" he called, in a cautious utterance. "She's went, and +the cabin looks just the same--from here." + +But Jim, when he came there, with his tiny guest upon his arm, looked +long at the well-scrubbed floor and the tidy array of pots, pans, +plates, and cups. + +"We'll never find the salt, or nothin', for a week," he drawled. "It +does take some people an awful long time to learn not to meddle with +the divine order of things." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE BELL FOR CHURCH + +What with telling little Skeezucks of all the things he meant to make, +and fondling the grave bit of babyhood, and trying to work out the +story of how he came to be utterly unsought for, deserted, and +parentless, Jim had hardly more than time enough remaining, that day, +in which to entertain the visiting men, who continued to climb the hill +to the house. + +Throughout that Saturday there was never more than fifteen minutes when +some of the big, rough citizens of Borealis were not on hand, +attempting always to get the solemn little foundling to answer some +word to their efforts at baby conversation. But neither to them, for +the strange array of presents they offered, nor to Jim himself, for all +his gentle coaxing, would the tiny chap vouchsafe the slightest hint of +who he was or whence he had come. + +It is doubtful if he knew. By the hour he sat where they placed him, +holding his doll with something more deep and hungry than affection, +and looking at Jim or the visitors in his pretty, baby way of gravity +and questioning. + +When he sat on old Jim's knee, however, he leaned in confidence against +him, and sighed with a sweet little sound of contentment, as poignant +to reinspire a certain ecstasy of sadness in the miner's breast as it +was to excite an envy in the hearts of the others. + +Next to Jim, he loved Tintoretto--that joyous, irresponsible bit of +pup-wise gladness whose tail was so utterly inadequate to express his +enthusiasm that he wagged his whole fuzzy self in the manner of an +awkward fish. Never was the tiny man seated with his doll on the floor +that the pup failed to pounce upon him and push him over, half a dozen +times. Never did this happen that one of the men, or Jim himself, did +not at once haul Tintoretto, growling, away by the tail or the ear and +restore their tiny guest to his upright position. Never did such a +good Samaritan fail to raise his hand for a cuff at the pup, nor ever +did one of them actually strike. It ended nearly always in the pup's +attack on the hand in question, which he chewed and pawed at and +otherwise befriended as only a pup, in his freedom from worries and +cares, can do. + +With absolutely nothing prepared, and with nothing but promises made +and forgotten, old Jim beheld the glory of Sunday morning come, with +the bite and crystalline sunshine of the season in the mountain air. + +God's thoughts must be made in Nevada, so lofty and flawless is the +azure sky, so utterly transparent is the atmosphere, so huge, gray, and +passionless the mighty reach of mountains! + +Man's little thought was expressed in the camp of Borealis, which +appeared like a herd of small, brown houses, pitifully insignificant in +all that immensity, and gathered together as if for company, trustfully +nestling in the hand of the earth-mother, known to be so gentle with +her children. On the hill-sides, smaller mining houses stood, each one +emphasized by the blue-gray heap of earth and granite--the dump--formed +by the labors of the restless men who burrowed in the rock for precious +metal. The road, which seemed to have no ending-place, was blazed +through the brush and through the hills in either direction across the +miles and miles of this land without a people. The houses of Borealis +stood to right and left of this path through the wilderness, as if by +common consent to let it through. + +Meagre, unknown, unimportant Borealis, with her threescore men and one +decent woman, shared, like the weightiest empire, in the smile, the +care, the yearning of the ever All-Pitiful, greeting the earth with +another perfect day. + +Intelligence of what could be expected, in the way of a celebration at +the blacksmith-shop of Webber, had been more than merely spread; it had +almost been flooded over town. Long before the hour of ten, scheduled +by common consent for church to commence, Webber was sweeping sundry +parings of horse-hoof and scraps of iron to either side of his hard +earth floor, and sprinkling the dust with water that he flirted from +his barrel. He likewise wiped off the anvil with his leathern apron, +and making a fire in the forge to take off the chill, thrust in a huge +hunk of iron to irradiate the heat. + +Many of the denizens of Borealis came and laid siege to the barber-shop +as early as six in the morning. Hardly a man in the place, except +Parky, the gambler, had been dressed in extravagance so imposing since +the 4th of July as was early apparent in the street. Bright new +shirts, red, blue, and even white, came proudly to the front. Trousers +were dropped outside of boots, and the boots themselves were polished. +A run on bear's-grease and hair-oil lent a shining halo to nearly every +head the camp could boast. Then the groups began to gather near the +open shop of the smith. + +"We'd ought to have a bell," suggested Lufkins, the teamster. +"Churches always ring the bell to let the parson know it's time he was +showin' up to start the ball." + +"Well, I'll string up a bar of steel," said Webber. "You can get a +crackin' fine lot of noise out of that." + +He strung it up in a framework just outside the door, ordinarily +employed for hoisting heavy wagons from the earth. Then with a hammer +he struck it sharply. + +The clear, ringing tone that vibrated all through the hills was a +stirring note indeed. So the bell-ringer struck his steel again. + +"That ain't the way to do the job," objected Field. "That sounds like +scarin' up voters at a measly political rally." + +"Can you do it any better?" said the smith, and he offered his hammer. + +"Here comes Doc Dennihan," interrupted the barkeep. "Ask Doc how it's +done. If he don't know, we'll have to wait for old If-only Jim +hisself." + +The brother of the tall Miss Doc was a small man with outstanding ears, +the palest gray eyes, and the quietest of manners. He was not a doctor +of anything, hence his title. Perhaps the fact that the year before he +had quietly shot all six of the bullets of his Colt revolver into the +body of a murderous assailant before that distinguished person could +fall to the earth had invested his townsmen and admirers with a modest +desire to do him a titular honor. Howsoever that might have been, he +had always subsequently found himself addressed with sincere respect, +while his counsel had been sought on every topic, possible, impossible, +and otherwise, mooted in all Borealis. The fact that his sister was +the "boss of his shack," and that he, indeed, was a henpecked man, was +never, by any slip of courtesy, conversationally paraded, especially in +his hearing. + +Appealed to now concerning the method of ringing the bar of steel for +worshipful purposes, he took a bite at his nails before replying. Then +he said: + +"Well, I'd ring it a little bit faster than you would for a funeral and +a little bit slower than you would for a fire." + +"That's the stuff!" said Field. "I knowed that Doc would know." + +But Doc refused them, nevertheless, when they asked if he would deign +to do the ringing himself. Consequently Field, the father of the camp, +made a gallant attempt at the work, only to miss the "bell" with his +hammer and strike himself on the knee, after which he limped to a seat, +declaring they didn't need a bell-ringing anyhow. Upon the blacksmith +the duty devolved by natural selection. + +He rang a lusty summons from the steel, that fetched all the dressed-up +congregation of the town hastening to the scene. Still, old Jim, the +faithful Keno, little Skeezucks, and Tintoretto failed to appear. A +deputation was therefore sent up the hill, where Jim was found +informing his household that if only he had the celerity of action he +would certainly make a Sunday suit of clothing for the tiny little man. +For himself, he had washed and re-turned his shirt, combed his hair, +and put on a better pair of boots, which the pup had been chewing to +occupy his leisure time. + +The small but impressive procession came slowly down the trail at last, +Jim in the lead, with the grave little foundling on his arm. + +"Boys," said he, as at last he entered the dingy shop and sat his +quaint bit of a man on the anvil, over which he had thoughtfully thrown +his coat--"boys, if only I'd had about fifteen minutes more of time I'd +have thought up all the tricks you ever saw in a church." + +The men filed in, awkwardly taking off their hats, and began to seat +themselves as best they could, on anything they found available. +Webber, the smith, went stoutly at his bellows, and blew up a fire that +flamed two feet above the forge, fountaining fiercely with sparks of +the iron in the coal, and tossing a ruddy light to the darkest corners +of the place. The incense of labor--that homely fragrance of the +smithy all over the world--spread fresh and new to the very door +itself. Old Jim edged closer to the anvil and placed his hand on the +somewhat frightened little foundling, sitting there so gravely, and +clasping his doll in fondness to his heart. + +Outside, it was noted, Field had halted the red-headed Keno for a +moment's whispered conversation. Keno nodded knowingly. Then he came +inside, and, addressing them all, but principally Jim, he said: + +"Say, before we open up, Miss Doc would like to know if she kin come." + +A silence fell on all the men. Webber went hurriedly and closed the +ponderous door. + +"Wal, she wouldn't be apt to like it till we get a little practised +up," said the diplomatic Jim, who knew the tenor of his auditors. +"Tell her maybe she kin--some other time." + +"This ain't no regular elemercenary institution," added the teamster. + +"Why not now?" demanded Field. "Why can't she come?" + +"Becuz," said the smith, "this church ain't no place for a woman, +anyhow." + +A general murmur of assent came from all the men save Field and Doc +Dennihan himself. + +"Leave the show commence," said a voice. + +"Start her up," said another. + +"Wal, now," drawled Jim, as he nervously stroked his beard, "let's take +it easy. Which opening do all you fellers prefer?" + +No one answered. + +One man finally inquired. "How many kinds is there?" + +Jim said, "Wal, there's the Methodist, the Baptist, the Graeco-Roman, +Episcopalian, and--the catch-as-catch-can." + +"Give us the ketch-and-kin-ketch-as-you-kin," responded the spokesman. + +"Mebbe we ought to begin with Sunday-school," suggested the blacksmith. +"That would sort of get us ready for the real she-bang." + +"How do you do it?" inquired Lufkins, the teamster. + +"Oh, it's just mostly catechism," Jim imparted, sagely. + +"And what's catechism?" said Bone. + +"Catechism," drawled the miner, "is where you ask a lot of questions +that only the children can answer." + +"I know," responded the blacksmith, squatting down before the anvil. +"Little Skeezucks, who made you?" + +The quaint little fellow looked at the brawny man timidly. How pale, +how wee he appeared in all that company, as he sat on the great lump of +iron, solemnly winking his big, brown eyes and clinging to his +make-shift of a doll! + +"Aw, say, give him something easy," said Lufkins. + +"That's what they used to bang at me," said the smith, defending his +position. "But I'll ask him the easiest one of the lot. Baby boy," he +said, in a gentle way of his own, "who is it makes everything?--who +makes all the lovely things in the world?" + +Shyly the tiny man leaned back on the arm he felt he knew, and gravely, +to the utter astonishment of the big, rough men, in his sweet baby +utterance, he said: + +"Bruv-ver--Jim." + +A roar of laughter instantly followed, giving the youngster a start +that almost shook him from his seat. + +"By jinks!" said Keno. "That's all right. You bet he knows." + +But the Sunday-school programme was not again attempted. When +something like calm had settled once more on the audience, If-only Jim +remarked that he guessed they would have to quit their fooling and get +down to the business of church. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SUNDAY HAPPENINGS + +But to open the service when quiet reigned again and expectation was +once more concentrated upon him afforded something of a poser still to +the lanky old Jim, elected to perform the offices of leading. + +"Where's Shorty Hobb with his fiddle?" said he. + +"Parky wouldn't leave him come," answered Bone. "He loaned him money +on his vierlin, and he says he owns it and won't leave him play in no +church that ever got invented." + +"Parky, hey?" said Jim, drawlingly. "Wal, bless his little home'pathic +pill of a soul!" + +"He says he's fed more poor and done more fer charity than any man in +town," informed a voice. + +"Does, hey?" said the miner. "I'll bet his belly's the only poor thing +he feeds regular. His hand ain't got callous cutting bread for the +orphans. But he ain't a subject for church. If only I'd 'a' known +what he was agoin' to do I'd made a harp. But let it go. We'll start +off with roll-call and follow that up with a song." + +He therefore began with the name of Webber, who responded "Here," and +proceeding to note who was present, he drawled the name or familiar +sobriquet of each in turn, till all had admitted they were personally +in attendance. + +"Ahem," said Jim, at the end of this impressive ceremony. "Now we'll +sing a hymn. What hymn do you fellows prefer?" + +There was not a great confusion of replies; in fact, the confusion +resulted from a lack thereof. + +"As no one indicates a preference," announced the miner, "we'll tackle +'Darling, I am growing old.' Are there any objections? All in +favor?--contrary minded?--the motion prevails. Now, then, all +together--'Darling--'Why don't you all git in?" + +"How does she go?" inquired Webber. + +"She goes like this," Jim replied, clearing his throat: + + "'Darling, I am growing o-old, + Silver bars among the gold; + Shine upon--te dum te dumpty-- + Far from the old folks at home.'" + +"Don't know it," said a voice. + +"Neither do I." + +"Nor I." + +"Nor I." + +The sheep of the flock all followed in a chorus of "Nor I's." + +"What's the matter with 'Swing Low, Sweet Cheery O'?" inquired Lufkins. + +"Suits me," Jim replied. "Steam up." + +He and the teamster, in duet, joined very soon by all the congregation, +sang over and over the only lines they could conjure back to memory, +and even these came forth in remarkable variety. For the greater part, +however, the rough men were fairly well united on the simple version: + + "'Swing low, sweet cheery O, + Comin' for to carry me home; + Swing low, sweet cheery O, + Comin' for to carry me home.'" + +This was sung no less than seven times, when Jim at length lifted his +hand for the end. + +"We'll follow this up with the Lord's Prayer," he said. + +Laying his big, freckled hand on the shoulder of the wondering little +pilgrim, seated so quietly upon the anvil, he closed his eyes and bowed +his head. How thin, but kindly, was his rugged face as the lines were +softened by his attitude! + +He began with hesitation. The prayer, indeed, was a stumbling towards +the long-forgotten--the wellnigh unattainable. + + "'Our Father which art in heaven . . . + Our Father which art in heaven--' + +"Now, hold on, just a minute," and he paused to think before resuming +and wiped his suddenly sweating brow. + + "'Our Father which art in heaven-- + If I should die before I wake . . . + Give us our daily bread. Amen.'" + +The men all sat in silence. Then Keno whispered, so loudly that every +one could hear; + +"By jinks! I didn't think he could do it!" + +"We'll now have another hymn," announced the leader, "There used to be +one that went on something about, 'I'm lost and far away from the +shack, and it's dark, and lead me--somewhere--kindly light.' Any one +remember the words all straight?" + +"I don't," replied the blacksmith, "but I might come in on the chorus." + +"Seems to me," said Bone, "a candle or just a plain, unvarnished light, +would 'a' went out. It must have bin a lantern." + +"Objection well taken," responded Jim, gravely. "I reckon I got it +turned 'round a minute ago. It was more like: + + "'Lead me on, kindly lantern, + For I am far from home, + And the night is dark.'" + +"It don't sound like a song--not exactly," ventured Lufkins. "Why not +give 'em 'Down on the Swanee River'?" + +"All right," agreed the "parson," and therefore they were all presently +singing at the one perennial "hymn" of the heart, universal in its +application, sweetly religious in its humanism. They sang it with a +woful lack of its own original lines; they put in string on string of +"dum te dums," but it came from their better natures and it sanctified +the dingy shop. + +When it was ended, which was not until it had gone through persistent +repetitions, old Jim was prepared for almost anything. + +"I s'pose you boys want a regular sermon," said he, "and if only I'd +'a' had the time--wal, I won't say what a torch-light procession of a +sermon you'd have got, but I'll do the best I can." + +He cleared his throat, struck an attitude inseparable from American +elocution, and began: + +"Fellow-citizens--and ladies and gentlemen--we--we're an ornary lot of +backwoods fellers, livin' away out here in the mountains and the brush, +but God Almighty 'ain't forgot us, all the same. He sent a little +youngster once to put a heartful of happiness into men, and He's sent +this little skeezucks here to show us boys we ain't shut off from +everything. He didn't send us no bonanza--like they say they've got in +Silver Treasury--but I wouldn't trade the little kid for all the +bullion they will ever melt. We ain't the prettiest lot of ducks I +ever saw, and we maybe blow the ten commandants all over the camp with +giant powder once in a while, lookin' 'round for gold, but, boys, we +ain't throwed out complete. We've got the love and pity of God +Almighty, sure, when he gives us, all to ourselves, a little helpless +feller for to raise. I know you boys all want me to thank the Father +of us all, and that's what I do. And I hope He'll let us know the way +to give the little kid a good square show, for Christ's sake. Amen." + +The men would have listened to more. They expected more, indeed, and +waited to hear old Jim resume. + +"That's about all," he said, as no one spoke, "except, of course, we'll +sing some more of the hymns and take up collection. I guess we'd +better take collection first." + +The congregation stirred. Big hands went down into pockets. + +"Who gets the collection?" queried Field. + +Jim drawled, "When it ain't buttons, it goes to the parson; when it is, +the parson's wife gits in." + +"You 'ain't got no wife," objected Bone. + +"That's why there ain't goin' to be no buttons," sagely answered the +miner. "On the square, though, boys, this is all for the little +skeezucks, to buy some genuine milk, from Miss Doc Dennihan's goat." + +"What we goin' to put our offerings into?" asked the blacksmith, as the +boys made ready with their contributions. "They used to hand around a +pie-plate when I was a boy." + +"We'll try to get along with a hat," responded Jim, "and Keno here can +pass it 'round. I've often observed that a hat is a handy thing to +collect things in, especially brains." + +So the hat went quickly from one to another, sagging more and more in +the crown as it travelled. + +The men had come forward to surround the anvil, with the tiny little +chap upon its massive top, and not one in all the groups was there who +did not feel that, left alone with the timid bit of a pilgrim, he could +get him to talking and laughing in the briefest of moments. + +The hymns with which old Jim had promised the meeting should conclude +were all but forgotten. Two or three miners, whose hunger for song was +not to be readily appeased, kept bringing the subject to the fore +again, however, till at length they were heard. + +"We're scarin' little Skeezucks, anyhow," said the brawny smith, once +more reviving the fire in the forge. + +"Let's sing 'In the Sweet By-and-By,' if all of us know it," suggested +a young fellow scarcely more than a lad. "It's awful easy." + +"Wal, you start her bilin'," replied the teamster. + +The young fellow blushed, but he nerved himself to the point and sang +out, nervously at first, and then, when his confidence increased, in a +clear, ringing tenor of remarkable purity, recalling the old-time words +that once were so widely known and treasured: + + "'There's a land that is fairer than day, + And by faith we can see it afar, + For the Father waits over the way + To prepare us a dwelling-place there.'" + +Then the chorus of voices, husky from neglect and crude from lack of +culture, joined in the chorus, with a heartiness that shook the dingy +building: + + "'In the sweet by-and-by, + We shall meet on that beautiful shore; + In the sweet by-and-by, + We shall meet on that beautiful shore.'" + +They followed this with what they knew of "Home, Sweet Home," and so at +last strolled out into the sunshine of the street, and surrounded the +quaint little foundling, as he looked from one to another in baby +gravity and sat in his timid way on the arm of "Bruvver Jim." + +"I'll tell you what," said the blacksmith, "now that we've found that +we can do the job all right, we'll get up a Christmas for little +Skeezucks that will lift the mountains clean up off the earth!" + +"Good suggestion," Jim agreed. "But the little feller feels tired now. +I am goin' to take him home." + +And this he did. But after lunch no fewer than twenty of the men of +Borealis climbed up the trail to get another look at the quiet little +man who glorified the cabin. + +But the darkness had only begun to creep through the lowermost channels +of the canyons when Skeezucks fell asleep. By then old Jim, the pup, +and Keno were alone with the child. + +"Keno, I reckon I'll wander quietly down and see if Doc will let me buy +a little milk," said Jim. "You'd better come along to see that his +sister don't interfere." + +Keno expressed his doubts immediately, not only as to the excellence of +goat's milk generally, but likewise as to any good that he could do by +joining Jim in the enterprise suggested. + +"Anyway," he concluded, "Doc has maybe went on shift by this time. +He's workin' nights this week again." + +Jim, however, prevailed. "You don't get another bite of grub in this +shack, nor another look at the little boy, if you don't come ahead and +do your share." + +Therefore they presently departed, shutting Tintoretto in the cabin to +"watch." + +In half an hour, having interviewed Doc Dennihan himself on the +hill-side quite removed from his cabin, the two worthies came climbing +up towards their home once again, Jim most carefully holding in his +hands a large tin cup with half an inch of goat's milk at the bottom. + +While still a hundred yards from the house, they were suddenly startled +by the mad descent upon them of the pup they had recently left behind. + +"Huh! you young galoot," said Jim. "You got out, I see!" + +When he entered the cabin it was dark. Keno lighted the candle and Jim +put his cup on the table. Then he went to the berth to awaken the tiny +foundling and give him a supper of bread and milk. + +Keno heard him make a sound as of one in terrible pain. + +The miner turned a face, deadly white, towards the table. + +"Keno," he cried, "he's gone!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +OLD JIM DISTRAUGHT + +For a moment Keno failed to comprehend. Then for a second after that +he refused to believe. He ran to the bunk where Jim was desperately +turning down the blankets and made a quick examination of that as well +as of the other beds. + +They were empty. + +Hastening across the cabin, the two men searched in the berths at the +farther end with parental eagerness, but all in vain, the pup meantime +dodging between their legs and chewing at their trousers. + +"Tintoretto!" said Jim, in a flash of deduction. "He must have got out +when somebody opened the door. Somebody's been here and stole my +little boy!" + +"By jinks!" said Keno, hauling at his sleeves in excess of emotion. +"But who?" + +"Come on," answered Jim, distraught and wild. "Come down to camp! +Somebody's playin' us a trick!" + +Again they shut the pup inside, and then they fairly ran down the +trail, through the darkness, to the town below. + +A number of men were standing in the street, among them the teamster +and Field, the father of Borealis. They were joking, laughing, wasting +time. + +"Boys," cried Jim, as he hastened towards the group, "has any one seen +little Skeezucks? Some one's played a trick and took him off! +Somebody's been to the cabin and stole my little boy!" + +"Stole him?" said Field. "Why, where was you and Keno?" + +"Down to Doc's to get some milk. He wanted bread and milk," Jim +explained, in evident anguish. "You fellows might have seen, if any +one fetched him down the trail. You're foolin'. Some of you took him +for a joke!" + +"It wouldn't be no joke," answered Lufkins, the teamster. "We 'ain't +got him, Jim, on the square." + +"Of course we 'ain't got him. We 'ain't took him for no joke," said +Field. "Nobody'd take him away like that." + +"Why don't we ring the bar of steel we used for a bell," suggested one +of the miners. "That would fetch the men--all who 'ain't gone back on +shift." + +"Good idea," said Field. "But I ought to get back home and eat some +dinner." + +He did not, however, depart. That Jim was in a fever of excitement and +despair they could all of them see. He hastened ahead of the group to +the shop of Webber. and taking a short length of iron chain, which he +found on the earth, he slashed and beat at the bar of steel with +frantic strength. + +The sharp, metallic notes rang out with every stroke. The bar was +swaying like a pendulum. Blow after blow the man delivered, filling +all the hollows of the hills with wild alarm. + +Out of saloons and houses men came sauntering, or running, according to +the tension of their nerves. Many thought some house must be afire. +At least thirty men were presently gathered at the place of summons. +With five or six informers to tell the news of Jim's bereavement, all +were soon aware of what was making the trouble. But none had seen the +tiny foundling since they bade him good-bye in the charge of Jim +himself. + +"Are you plum dead sure he's went?" said Webber, the smith. "Did you +look all over the cabin?" + +"Everywhere," said Jim. "He's gone!" + +"Wal, maybe some mystery got him," suggested Bone. "Jim, you don't +suppose his father, or some one who lost him, come and nabbed him while +you was gone?" + +They saw old Jim turn pale in the light that came from across the +street. + +Keno broke in with an answer. + +"By jinks! Jim was his mother! Jim had more good rights to the little +feller than anybody, livin' or dead!" + +"You bet!" agreed a voice. + +Jim spoke with difficulty. + +"If any one did that"--he faltered--"why, boys, he never should have +let me find him in the brush." + +"Are you plum dead sure he's went?" insisted the blacksmith, whom the +news had somewhat stunned. + +"I thought perhaps you fellows might have played a joke--taken him off +to see me run around," said Jim, with a faint attempt at a smile. +"'Ain't you got him, boys--all the time?" + +"Aw, no, he'd be too scared," said Bone. "We know he'd be scared of +any one of us." + +"It ain't so much that," said Field, "but I shouldn't wonder if his +father, or some other feller just as good, came and took him off." + +"Of course his father would have the right," said Jim, haltingly, +"but--I wish he hadn't let me find him first. You fellows are sure you +ain't a-foolin'?" + +"We couldn't have done it--not on Sunday--after church," said Lufkins. +"No, Jim, we wouldn't fool that way." + +"You don't s'pose that Parky might have took him, out of spite?" said +Jim, eager for hope in any direction whatsoever. + +"No! He hates kids worse than pizen," said the barkeep, decisively. +"He's been a-gamblin' since four this afternoon, dealin' faro-bank." + +"We could go and search every shack in camp," suggested a listener. + +"What would be the good of that?" inquired Field. "If the father came +and took the little shaver, do you think he'd hide him 'round here in +somebody's cabin?" + +The blacksmith said: "It don't seem as if you could have looked all +over the house. He's such a little bit of a skeezucks." + +Keno told him how they had searched in every bunk, and how the milk was +waiting on the table, and how the pup had escaped when some one opened +the door. + +The men all volunteered to go up on the hill with torches and lanterns, +to see if the trail of the some one who had done this deed might not be +discovered. Accordingly, the lights were secured and the party climbed +the slope. All of them entered the cabin and heard the explanation of +exactly how old Jim had found that the little chap was gone. + +Webber was one of the number. To satisfy his incredulous mind, he +searched every possible and impossible lurking-place where an object as +small as a ball could be concealed. + +"I guess he's went," he agreed, at last. + +Then out on the hill-side went the crowd, and breaking up in groups, +each with its lanterns and torches, they searched the rock-strewn slope +In every direction. The wavering lights went hither and yon, revealing +now the faces of the anxious men, and then prodigious features of a +clump of granite bowlders, jewelled with mica, sparkling in the light. + +Intensely the darkness hedged the groups about. The sounds of their +voices and of rocks that crunched beneath their boots alone disturbed +the great, eternal calm; but the search was vain. The searchers had +known it could be of no avail, for the puny foot of man could have made +no track upon the slanted floor of granite fragments that constituted +the hill-side. It was something to do for Jim, and that was all. + +At length, about midnight, it came to an end. They lingered on the +slope, however, to offer their theories, invariably hopeful, and to say +that Monday morning would accomplish miracles in the way of setting +everything aright. + +Many were supperless when all save Jim and little Keno had again +returned to Borealis and left the two alone at the cabin. + +"We'll save the milk in case he might come home by any chance," said +the gray old miner, and he placed the cup on a shelf against the wall. + +In silence he cooked the humble dinner, which he placed on the table in +front of his equally voiceless companion. Keno and the pup went at the +meal with unpoetic vigor, but Jim could do no eating. He went to the +door from time to time to listen. Then he once more searched the +blankets in the bunks. + +"Wal, anyway," said he, at last, "he took his doll." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE GUILTY MISS DOC + +That Keno and Tintoretto should sleep was inevitable, after the way +they had eaten. Old Jim then took his lantern and went out alone. +Perhaps his tiny foundling had wandered away by himself, he thought. +Searching and searching, up hill and down, lighting his way through the +brush, the miner went on and on, to leave no spot unvisited. He was +out all night, wandering here and climbing there on the hillside, +pausing now and again to listen and to look about, almost expectantly, +where naught could be seen save the mighty procession of the stars, and +naught could be heard save the ringing of the inter-stellar silence as +the earth swung steadily onward in her course. + +Hour after hour of the darkness went by and found him searching still. +With the coming of the morning he suddenly grasped at a startling +thought. + +Miss Doc!--Miss Dennihan! She must have stolen his foundling! + +Her recent climb to his cabin, her protracted stay, her baffled +curiosity--these were ample explanation for the trick she must have +played! How easily she might have watched the place, slipped in the +moment the cabin was left unguarded, and carried off the little pilgrim! + +Jim knew she would glory in such a revenge. She probably cared not a +whit for the child, but to score against himself, for defeating her +purpose when she called, she would doubtless have gone to any possible +length. + +The miner was enraged, but a second later a great gush of thankfulness +and relief surged upward in his heart. At least, the little man would +not have been out all night in the hills! Then growing sick in turn, +he thought this explanation would be too good to be true. It was +madness--only a hope! He clung to it tenaciously, however, then gave +it up, only to snatch it back again in desperation as he hastened home +to his cabin. + +"Keno, wake up," he cried to his lodger, shaking him briskly by the +shoulder. "Keno! Keno!" + +"What's the matter? Time for breakfast?" asked Keno, drowsily, risking +only half an eye with which to look about. "Why not call me gently?" + +"Get up!" commanded Jim. "I have thought of where little Skeezucks has +gone!" + +"Where?" cried Keno, suddenly aroused. "I'll go and kill the cuss that +took him off!" + +"Miss Doc!" replied the miner. "Miss Doc!" + +"Miss Doc?" repeated Keno, weakly, pausing in the act of pulling on his +boots. "By jinks! Say, I couldn't kill no woman, Jim. How do you +know?" + +"Stands to reason," Jim replied, and explaining his premises rapidly +and clearly, he punched poor Keno into something almost as good as +activity. + +"By jinks! I can't believe it," said Keno, who did believe it with +fearful thoroughness. "Jim, she wouldn't dare, an' us two fellers +liable to bust her house to pieces." + +"Don't you know she'd be dead sure to play a trick like that?" said +Jim, who could not bear to listen to a doubt. "Don't you see she +couldn't do anything else, bein' a woman?" + +"Maybe--maybe," answered Keno, with a sort of acquiescence that is +deadlier than an out-and-out denial. "But--I wouldn't want to see you +disappointed, Jim--I wouldn't want to see it." + +"Wal, you come on, that's all," said Jim. "If it ain't so--I want to +know it early in the day!" + +"But--what can I do?" still objected Keno. "Wouldn't you rather I'd +stay home and git the breakfast?" + +"We don't want any breakfast if she 'ain't got the little boy. You +come on!" + +Keno came; so did Tintoretto. The three went down the slope as the sun +looked over the rim of the mountains. The chill and crispness of the +air seemed a part of those early rays of light. + +In sight of the home of Doc and Miss Dennihan, they paused and stepped +behind a fence, for the door of the neat little house was open and the +lady herself was sweeping off the steps, with the briskness inseparable +from her character. + +She presently disappeared, but the door, to Jim's relief, was left +standing open. He proceeded boldly on his course. + +"Now, I'll stay outside and hold the pup," said Keno. + +"If anything goes wrong, you let the pup go loose," instructed Jim. +"He might distract her attention." + +Thereupon he went in at the creaking little garden gate, and, leaving +it open, knocked on the door and entered the house. He had hardly more +than come within the room when Miss Doc appeared from her kitchen. + +"Mercy in us, if you ain't up before your breakfast!" she said. +"Whatever do you want in my house at this time of mornin', you Jim +lazy-joints?" + +"You know what I came for," said Jim. "I want my little boy." + +"Your little boy?" she echoed. "I never knowed you had no little boy. +You never said nuthin' 'bout no little boy when I was up to your cabin." + +Jim's heart, despite his utmost efforts to be hopeful, was sinking. + +"You know I found a little kid," he said, less aggressively. "And some +one's taken him off--stole him--that's what they've done, and I'll bet +a bit it's you!" + +"Wal, if I ever!" cried Miss Doc, her eyes lighting up dangerously. +"Did you come down here to tell me right to my face I stole from your +dirty little shanty?" + +"I want my little boy," said Jim. + +"Wal, you git out of my house," commanded Miss Doc. "If John was up +you'd never dare to stay here another minute. You clear out! +A-callin' me a thief!" + +Jim's hope collapsed in his bosom. The taking of the child he could +gladly have forgiven. Any excuse would have satisfied his +anger--anything was bearable, save to know that he had come on a false +belief. + +"Miss Doc," he said, "I only want the little kid. Don't say he ain't +here." + +"Tellin' me I'd steal!" she said, in her indignation. "You shiftless, +good-for-nothin'--" But she left her string of epithets incompleted, +all on account of an interruption in the shape of Tintoretto. + +Keno had made up his mind that everything was going wrong, and he had +loosed the pup. + +Bounding in at the door, that enthusiastic bit of awkwardness and good +intentions jumped on the front of Miss Doc's dress, gave a lick at her +hand, scooted back to his master, and wagged himself against the +tables, chairs, and walls with clumsy dexterity. Sniffing and bumping +his nose on the carpet, he pranced through the door to the kitchen. + +Almost immediately Jim heard the sound of something being bowled over +on the floor--something being licked--something vainly striving with +the over-affectionate pup, and then there came a coo of joy. + +"There he is!" cried Jim, and before Miss Doc could lift so much as +hand or voice to restrain him, he had followed Tintoretto and fallen on +his knees by the side of his lost little foundling, who was helplessly +straddled by the pup, and who, for the first time, dropped his doll as +he held out his tiny arms to be taken. + +"My little boy!" said the miner--"my little boy!" and taking both doll +and little man in his arms he held them in passionate tenderness +against his heart. + +"How da'st you come in my kitchen with your dirty boots?" demanded Miss +Dennihan, in all her unabashed pugnacity. + +"It's all right, little Skeezucks," said Jim to the timid little +pilgrim, who was clinging to his collar with all the strength of a +baby's new confidence and hope. "Did you think old brother Jim was +lost? Did you want to go home and get some bread and milk?" + +"He ain't a bit hungry. He didn't want nuthin' to eat," said Miss Doc, +in self-defence. "And you ain't no more fit to have that there child +than a--" + +"Goin' to have him all the same," old Jim interrupted, starting for the +door. "You stole him--that's what you did!" + +"I didn't do no sech thing," said the housewife. "I jest nachelly +borrowed him--jest for over night. And now you've got him, I hope +you're satisfied. And you kin jest clear out o' my house, do you hear? +And I can't scrub and sweep too soon where your lazy, dirty old boots +has been on the floor!" + +"Wal," drawled Jim, "I can't throw away these boots any too soon, +neither. I wouldn't wear a pair of boots which had stepped on any +floor of yours." + +He therefore left the house at once, even as the lady began her violent +sweeping. Interrupting Keno's mad chortles of joy at sight of little +Skeezucks, Jim gave him the tiny man for a moment's keeping, and, +taking off his boots, threw them down before Miss Dennihan's gate in +extravagant pride. + +Then once more he took his little man on his arm and started away. But +when he had walked a half-dozen rods, on the rocks that indented the +tender soles of his stockinged feet, he was stepping with gingerly +uncertainty. He presently came to a halt. The ground was not only +lumpy, it was cold. + +"I'll tell you what," he slowly drawled, "in this little world there's +about one chance in a million for a man to make a President of himself, +and about nine hundred and ninety-nine chances in a thousand for him to +make a fool of himself." + +"That's what I thought," said Keno. + +"All the same, if only I had the resolution I'd leave them boots there +forever!" + +"What for?" said Keno. + +"Wal," drawled Jim, "a man can't always tell he comes of a proud family +by the cut of his clothes. But, Keno, you ain't troubled with pride, +so you go back and fetch me the boots." + +Then, when he presently drew his cowhide casings on, he sat for a +moment enjoying the comfort of those soles beneath his feet. For the +time that they halted where they were, he held his rescued little boy +to his heart in an ecstasy such as he never had dreamed could be given +to a man. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PREPARATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS + +When the word spread 'round that Jim and the quaint little foundling +were once more united, the story of the episode at Miss Doc's home +necessarily followed to make the tale complete. Immensely relieved and +grateful, to know that no dire calamity had befallen the camp's first +and only child, the rough men nevertheless lost no time in conceiving +the outcome to be fairly amusing. + +"You kin bet that Doc was awake all the time, and listenin', as long as +Jim was there," said Bone, "but six yoke of oxen couldn't 'a' dragged +his two eyes open, or him out of bed, to mingle in the ceremonies." + +To prevent a recurrence of similar descents upon his household, Jim +arranged his plans in such a manner that the timid little Skeezucks +should never again be left alone. Indeed, the gray old miner hardly +ever permitted the little chap to be out of his sight. Hour by hour, +day by day, he remained at his cabin, playing with the child, telling +him stories, asking him questions, making him promises of all the +wonderful toys and playthings he would manufacture soon. + +Once in a while the little fellow spoke. That utterance came with +difficulty to his lips was obvious. He must always have been a silent, +backward little fellow, and sad, as children rarely become at an age so +tender. Of who or what he was he gave no clew. He seemed to have no +real name, to remember no parents, to feel no confidence in anything +save "Bruvver Jim" and Tintoretto. + +In the course of a week a number of names had been suggested for the +tiny bit of a stranger, but none could suit the taste of Jim. He +waited still for a truant inspiration, and meanwhile "Skeezucks" came +daily more and more into use among the men of Borealis. + +It was during this time that a parcel arrived at the cabin from the +home of Miss Doc. It was fetched to the hill by Doc himself, who said +it was sent by his sister. He departed at once, to avoid the +discussion which he felt its contents might occasion. + +On tearing it open old Jim was not a little amazed to discover a lot of +little garments, fashioned to the size of tiny Skeezucks, with all the +skill which lies--at nature's second thought--in the hand of woman. +Neat little undergarments, white little frocks, a something that the +miner felt by instinct was a "nightie," and two pairs of the smallest +of stockings rewarded the overhauling of the package, and left Jim +momentarily speechless. + +"By jinks!" said Keno, pulling down his sleeves, "them are awful small +fer us!" + +"If only I had the time," drawled Jim, "I'd take 'em back to Miss Doc +and throw them in her yard. We don't need anybody sewin' for little +Skeezucks. I was meanin' to make him somethin' better than these +myself." + +"Oh!" said Keno. "Well, we could give 'em to the pup. He'd like to +play with them little duds." + +"No; I'll try 'em on the little boy tonight," reflected Jim, "and then, +if we find they ain't a fit, why, I'll either send 'em back or cut 'em +apart and sew 'em all over and make 'em do." + +But once he had tried them on, their fate was sealed. They remained as +much a part of the tiny man as did his furry doll. Indeed, they were +presently almost forgotten, for December being well advanced, the one +great topic of conversation now was the Christmas celebration to be +held for the camp's one little child. + +Ten of the big, rough citizens had come one evening to the cabin on the +hill, to settle on some of the details of what they should do. The +tiny pilgrim, whom they all regarded so fondly, had gone to sleep and +Jim had placed him in his bunk. In the chimney a glowing fire drove +away the chill of the wintry air. + +"Speakin' of catfish, of course we'll hang up his stockin'," said +Field. "Christmas wouldn't be no Christmas without a stockin'." + +"Stockin'!" echoed the blacksmith. "We'll have to hang up a +minin'-shaft, I reckon, for to hold all the things." + +"I'm goin' to make him a kind of kaliderscope myself, or maybe two or +three," said one modest individual, stroking his chin. + +Dunn, the most unworkman-like carpenter that ever built a crooked +house, declared it was his intention to fashion a whole set of +alphabetical blocks of prodigious size and unearthly beauty. + +"Well, I can't make so much in the way of fancy fixin's, but you jest +wait and see," said another. + +The blacksmith darkly hinted at wonders evolving beneath the curly +abundance of his hair, and Lufkins likewise kept his purposes to +himself. + +"I s'pose we'd ought to have a tree," said Jim. "We could make a +Christmas-tree look like the Garden of Eden before Mrs. Adam began to +eat the ornaments." + +"That's the ticket," Webber agreed. "That's sure the boss racket of +them all." + +"We couldn't git no tree into this shanty," objected Field. "This +place ain't big enough to hold a Christmas puddin'." + +"Of course it is," said the carpenter. "It's ten foot ten by eighteen +foot six inches, or I can't do no guessin'." + +"That 'mount of space couldn't hold jest me, on Christmas," estimated +the teamster. + +"And the whole camp sure will want to come," added another. + +"'Ceptin' Miss Doc," suggested Webber. + +"'Ceptin' Miss Doc," agreed the previous speaker. + +"Then why not have the tree down yonder, into Webber's shop, same as +church?" asked Field. "We could git the whole camp in there." + +This was acclaimed a thought of genius. + +"It suits me down to the ground," said Jim, with whom all ultimate +decision lay, by right of his foster-parenthood of little Skeezucks, +"only I don't see so plain where we're goin' to git the tree. We're +burnin' all the biggest brush around Borealis, and there ain't a +genuine Christmas-tree in forty miles." + +The truth of this observation fell like a dampened blanket on all the +company. + +"That's so," said Webber. "That's just the luck!" + +"There's a bunch of willers and alders by the spring," suggested a +hopeful person. + +"You pore, pitiful cuss," said Field. "You couldn't have seen no +Christmas-tree in all your infancy." + +"If only I had the time," drawled Jim, "I'd go across to the Pinyon +mountains and git a tree. Perhaps I can do that yet." + +"If you'd do that, Jim, that would be the biggest present of the lot," +said Webber. "You wouldn't have to do nuthin' more."' + +"Wal, I'm goin' to make a Noah's ark full of animals, anyway," said +Jim. "Also a few cars and boats and a big tin horn--if only I've got +the activity." + +"But we'll reckon on you for the tree," insisted the blacksmith. +"Then, of course, we want a great big Christmas dinner." + +"What are you goin' to do fer a turkey?" inquired Field. + +"And rich brown gravy?" added the carpenter. + +"And cranberry sauce and mince-pie?" supplemented Lufkins. + +"Well, maybe we could git a rabbit for the turkey," answered the smith. + +"And, by jinks! I kin make a lemon-pie that tastes like a chunk +dropped out of heaven," volunteered Keno, pulling at his sleeves. + +"But what about that rich brown gravy?" queried the carpenter. + +"Smoky White can dish up the slickest dough-nuts you ever slapped your +lip onto," informed the modest individual who stroked his chin. + +"We can have pertatoes and beans and slapjacks on the side," a hopeful +miner reminded the company. + +"You bet. Don't you worry; we can trot out a regular banquet," Field +assured them, optimistically. "S'posen we don't have turkey and +cranberry sauce and a big mince-pie?" + +"I'd like that rich brown gravy," murmured the carpenter--"good and +thick and rich and brown." + +"We could rig up a big, long table in the shop," planned the +blacksmith, "and put a hundred candles everywhere, and have the tree +all blazin' with lights, and you bet things would be gorgeous." + +"If we git the tree," said Lufkins. + +"And the rabbit fer a turkey," added a friend. + +"Well, by jinks! you'll git the lemon-pie all right, if you don't git +nuthin' else," declared little Keno. + +"If only I can plan it out I'll fetch the tree," said Jim. "I'd like +to do that for the little boy." + +"Jim's an awful clever ole cuss," said Field, trusting to work some +benefit by a judicious application of flattery. "It ain't every man +which knows the kind of a tree to chop. Not all trees is +Christmas-trees. But ole Jim is a clever ole duck, you bet." + +"Wal," drawled Jim, "I never suspect my own intelligence till a man +begins to tell me I'm a clever old duck. Still, I reckon I ain't +over-likely to cut no cherry-trees over to the Pinyon hills." + +"The celebration's comin' to a head in bully style, that's the main +concern," said the teamster. "I s'pose we'd better begin to invite all +the boys?" + +"If all of 'em come," suggested a listener, "that one jack-rabbit +settin' up playin' turkey will look awful sick." + +"I'd hate to git left on the gravy," added the carpenter--"if there's +goin' to be any gravy." + +"Aw, we'll have buckets of grub," said the smith. "We'll ask 'em all +to 'please bring refreshments,' same as they do in families where they +never git a good square meal except at surprise-parties and birthday +blow-outs. Don't you fear about the feed." + +"Well, we ought to git the jig to goin'," suggested Field. "Lots of +the boys needs a good fair warnin' when they're goin' to tackle cookin' +grub for a Christmas dinner. I vote we git out of here and go down +hill and talk the racket up." + +This motion was carried at once. The boys filed out with hearty +good-nights, and wended their way down the slope, with the bite of the +frosted air at their ears. + +Then Jim, at the very thought of travelling forty miles to fetch a tree +for Christmas gayeties, sat down before his fire to take a rest. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +TROUBLES AND DISCOVERIES + +For the next ten days the talk of the camp was the coming celebration. +Moreover, man after man was surrounding himself with mystery +impenetrable, as he drew away in his shell, so to speak, to undergo +certain throes of invention and secret manufacture of presents for the +tiny boy at the cabin on the hill. Knowing nods, sly winks, and +jealous guarding of their cleverness marked the big, rough fellows one +by one. And yet some of the most secretive felt a necessity for +consulting Jim as to what was appropriate, what would please little +Skeezucks, and what was worthy to be tied upon the tree. + +That each and every individual thus laboring to produce his offering +should be eager to excel his neighbor, and to win the greatest +appreciation from the all-unknowing little pilgrim for his own +particular toy or trinket, was a natural outcome of the Christmas +spirit actuating the manoeuvres. And all the things they could give +would have to be made, since there was not a shop in a radius of a +hundred miles where baubles for youngsters could be purchased, while +Borealis, having never had a baby boy before in all its sudden annals +of being, had neglected all provision for the advent of tiny Skeezucks. + +The carpenter came to the cabin first, with a barley-sack filled with +the blocks he had made for the small foundling's Christmas ecstasy. +Before he would show them, however, Keno was obliged to leave the house +and the tiny pilgrim himself was placed in a bunk from which he could +not see. + +"I want to surprise him," explained the carpenter. + +He then dumped out his blocks. + +As lumber was a luxury in Borealis, he had been obliged to make what +shift he could. In consequence of this the blocks were of several +sizes, a number were constructed of several pieces of board nailed +together--and split in the process--no two were shaped alike, except +for generalities, and no one was straight. However, they were larger +than a man's two fists, they were gaudily painted, and the alphabet was +sprinkled upon them with prodigal generosity. There were even +hieroglyphics upon them, which the carpenter described as birds and +animals. They were certainly more than any timid child could ever have +demanded. + +"Them's it," said Dunn, watching the face of Jim with what modest pride +the situation would permit. "Now, what I want you to do is to give me +a genuine, candid opinion of the work." + +"Wal, I'll tell you," drawled the miner, "whenever a man asks you for a +candid opinion, that's the time to fill your shovel with guff. It's +the only safe proceedin'. So I won't fool around with candid opinions, +Dunn, I'll just admit they are jewels. Cut my diamonds if they ain't!" + +"I kind of thought so myself," confessed the carpenter. "But I thought +as you was a first-class critic, why, I'd like to hear what you'd say." + +"No, I ain't no critic," Jim replied. "A critic is a feller who can +say nastier things than anybody else about things that anybody else can +do a heap sight better than he can himself." + +"Well, I do reckon, as who shouldn't say so, that nobody livin' into +Borealis but me could 'a' made them blocks," agreed Dunn, returning the +lot to his sack. "But I jest wanted to hear you say so, Jim, fer you +and me has had an eddication which lots of cusses into camp 'ain't +never got. Not that it's anything agin 'em, but--you know how it is. +I'll bet the little shaver will like them better'n anything else he'll +git." + +"Oh, he'll like 'em in a different way," agreed the miner. "No doubt +about that." + +And when the carpenter had gone old Jim took his little foundling from +the berth and sat him on his knee. + +In the tiny chap's arms the powder-flask-and-potato doll was firmly +held. The face of the lady had wrinkled with a premature descent of +age upon her being. One of her eyes had disappeared, while her +soot-made mouth had been wiped across her entire countenance. + +The quaint bit of a boy was dressed, as usual, in the funny little +trousers that came to his heels, while his old fur cap had been kept in +requisition for the warmth it afforded his ears. He cuddled +confidingly against his big, rough protector, but he made no sound of +speaking, nor did anything suggestive of a smile come to play upon his +grave little features. + +Jim had told him of Christmas by the hour--all the beauty of the story, +so old, so appealing to the race of man, who yearns towards everything +affording a brightness of hope and a faith in anything human. + +"What would little Skeezucks like for his Christmas?" the man inquired, +for the twentieth time. + +The little fellow pressed closer against him, in baby shyness and +slowly answered: + +"Bruv-ver--Jim." + +The miner clasped him tenderly against his heart. Yet he had but +scanty intimation of the all the tiny pilgrim meant. + +He sat with him throughout that day, however, as he had so many of +these fleeting days. The larder was neglected; the money contributed +at "church" had gone at once, to score against a bill at the store, as +large as the cabin itself, and only the labors of Keno, chopping brush +for fuel, kept the home supplied even with a fire. Jim had been born +beneath the weight of some star too slow to move along. + +When Keno came back to the cabin from his work in the brush it was well +along in the afternoon. Jim decided to go below and stock up the +pantry with food. On arriving at the store, however, he met a new +manner of reception. + +The gambler, Parky, was in charge, as a recent purchaser of the whole +concern. + +"You can't git no more grub-stake here without the cash," he said to +Jim. "And now you've come, you can pony up on the bill you 'ain't yet +squared." + +"So?" said Jim. + +"You bet your boots it's so, and you can't begin to pungle up a minute +too soon!" was the answer. + +"I reckon you'd ask a chicken to pungle up the gravel in his gizzard if +you thought he'd picked up a sliver of gold," Jim drawled, in his lazy +utterance. "And an ordinary chicken, with the pip thrown in, could +pungle twice to my once." + +"Ain't got the stuff, hey?" said Parky. "Broke, I s'pose? Then maybe +you'll git to work, you old galoot, and stop playin' parson and +goody-goody games. You don't git nothing here without the chink. So +perhaps you'll git to work at last." + +A red-nosed henchman of the gambler's put in a word. + +"I don't see why you 'ain't gone to work," he said. + +"Don't you?" drawled Jim, leaning on the counter to survey the speaker. +"Well, it looks to me as if you found out, long ago, that all work and +no play makes a man a Yankee." + +"I ain't no Yankee, you kin bet on that!" said the man. + +"That's pretty near incredible," drawled Jim. + +"And I ain't neither," declared the gambler, who boasted of being +Canadian. "Don't you forget that, old boy." + +"No," Jim slowly replied, "I've often noticed that all that glitters +ain't American." + +"Well, you can clear out of here and notice how things look outside," +retorted Parky. + +Jim was slowly straightening up when the blacksmith and the teamster +entered the place. They had heard the gambler's order and were +thoroughly astounded. No man, howsoever poor and unprepared to pay a +wretched bill, had ever been treated thus in Borealis before. + +"What's the matter?" said Webber. + +"Nuthin', particularly," answered Jim, in his slow, monotonous way, +"only a difference of opinion. Parky thinks he's brainy, and a +gentleman--that's all." + +"I can see you don't git another snack of grub in here, my friend," +retorted Parky, adding a number of oaths. "And for just two cents I'd +break your jaw and pitch you out in the street." + +"Not with your present flow of language," answered Jim. + +The teamster inquired, "Why don't Jim git any more grub?" + +"Because I'm running this joint and he 'ain't got the cash," said +Parky. "You got anything to say about the biz?" + +"Jim's got a call on me and my cash," replied the brawny Webber. "Jim, +you tell him what you need, and I'll foot the bill." + +"I'll settle half, myself," added Lufkins. + +"Thanks, boys, not this evenin'," said Jim, whose pride had singular +moments for coming to the surface. "There's only one time of day when +it's safe to deal with a gambler, and that's thirteen o'clock." + +"I wouldn't sell you nothing, anyway," said Parky, with a swagger. "He +couldn't git grub here now for no money--savvy?" + +"I wonder why you call it grub, now that it's come into your greasy +hands!" drawled the miner, as he slowly started to leave the store. +"I'd be afraid you'd deal me a dirty ace of spades instead of a decent +slice of bacon." And, hands in pockets, he sauntered away, vaguely +wondering what he should do. + +The blacksmith hung for a moment in the balance of indecision, rapidly +thinking. Then he followed where the gray old Jim had gone, and +presently overtook him in the road. + +"Jim," he said, "what about poor little Skeezucks? Say, I'll tell you +what we'll do: I'll wait a little, and then send Field to the store and +have him git whatever you need, and pretend it's all for himself. Then +we'll lug it up the hill and slide it into the cabin slick as a lead +two-bits." + +"Can't let you do it," said Jim. + +"Why not?" demanded Webber. + +Jim hesitated before he drawled his reply. + +"If only I had the resolution," said he, "I wouldn't take nothing that +Parky could sell." + +"When we git you once talkin' 'if-only,' the bluff is called," replied +the smith, with a grin. "Now what are you needin' at the shack?" + +"You rich fellers want to run the whole shebang," objected Jim, by way +of an easy capitulation. "There never yet was a feller born with a +silver spoon in his mouth that didn't want to put it in every other +feller's puddin'. . . . I was goin' to buy a can or two of condensed +milk and a slab of bacon and a sack of flour and a bean or two and a +little 'baccy, and a few things about like that." + +"All right," said the blacksmith, tabulating all these items on his +fingers. "And Field kin look around and see if there ain't some extrys +for little Skeezucks." + +"If only I had the determination I wouldn't accept a thing from Parky's +stock," drawled the miner, as before. "I'll go to work on the claim +and pay you back right off." + +"Kerrect," answered Webber, as gravely as possible, thinking of the +hundred gaudy promises old Jim had made concerning his undeveloped and +so far worthless claim. "I hope you'll strike it good and rich." + +"Wal," drawled Jim; "bad luck has to associate with a little good luck +once in a while, to appear sort of half-way respectable. And my +luck--same as any tired feller's--'ain't been right good Sunday-school +company for several years." + +So he climbed back up the hill once more, and, coming to his cabin, had +a long, earnest look at the picks, bars, drills, and other implements +of mining, heavy with dust, in the corner. + +"If only the day wasn't practically gone," said he, "I'd start to work +on the claim this afternoon." + +But he touched no tools, and presently instead he took the grave little +foundling on his knee and told him, all over, the tales the little +fellow seemed most to enjoy. + +When the stock of provisions was finally fetched to the house by Webber +himself, the worthy smith was obliged to explain that part of the money +supplied to Field for the purchase of the food had been confiscated for +debt at the store. In consequence of this the quantity had been cut to +a half its intended dimensions. + +"And the worst of it is," said the blacksmith, in conclusion, "we all +owe a little at the store, and Parky's got suspicious that we're +sneakin' things to you." + +Indeed, as he left the house, he saw that certain red-nosed microbe of +a human being attached to the gambler, spying on his visit to the hill. +Stopping for a moment to reflect upon the nearness of Christmas and the +needless worry that he might inflict by informing Jim of his discovery, +Webber shook his head and went his way, keeping the matter to himself. + +But with food in the house old Jim was again at ease, so much so, +indeed, that he quite forgot to begin that promised work upon his +claim. He had never worked except when dire necessity made resting no +longer possible, and then only long enough to secure the wherewithal +for sufficient food to last him through another period of sitting +around to think. If thinking upon subjects of no importance whatsoever +had been a lucrative employment, Jim would certainly have accumulated +the wealth of the whole wide world. + +He took his pick in his hands the following day, but placed it again in +its corner, slowly, after a moment's examination of its blunted steel. + +Three days went by. The weather was colder. Bitter winds and frowning +clouds were hastening somewhere to a conclave of the wintry elements. +It was four days only to Christmas. Neither the promised Noah's ark to +present to tiny Skeezucks nor the Christmas-tree on which the men had +planned to hang their gifts was one whit nearer to realization than as +if they had never been suggested. + +Meantime, once again the food-supply was nearly gone. Keno kept the +pile of fuel reasonably high, but cheer was not so prevalent in the +cabin as to ask for further room. The grave little pilgrim was just a +trifle quieter and less inclined to eat. He caught a cold, as tiny as +himself, but bore its miseries uncomplainingly. In fact, he had never +cried so much as once since his coming to the cabin; and neither had he +smiled. + +In sheer concern old Jim went forth that cold and windy afternoon of +the day but four removed from Christmas, to make at least a show of +working on his claim. Keno, Skeezucks, and the pup remained behind, +the little red-headed man being busily engaged in some great culinary +mystery from which he said his lemon-pie for Christmas should evolve. + +When presently Jim stood beside the meagre post-hole he had made once +upon a time, as a starter for a mining-shaft, he looked at it ruefully. +How horridly hard that rock appeared! What a wretched little scar it +was he had made with all that labor he remembered so vividly! What was +the good of digging here? Nothing! + +Dragging his pick, he looked for a softer spot in which to sink the +steel. There were no softer spots. And the pick helve grew so +intensely cold! Jim dropped it to the ground, and with hands thrust +into his armpits, for the warmth afforded, he hunched himself dismally +and scanned the prospect with doleful eyes. Why couldn't the hill +break open, anyhow, and show whether anything worth the having were +contained in its bulk or not? + +A last summer's mullen stock, beating incessantly in the wind, seemed +the only thing alive on all that vast outbulging of the earth. The +stunted brush stiffly carded the breeze that blew so persistently. + +From rock to rock the gray old miner's gaze went wandering. So +undisturbed had been the surface of the earth since he had owned the +claim that a shallow channel, sluiced in the earth by a freshet of the +spring long past, remained as the waters had cut it. Slowly up the +course of this insignificant cicatrice old Jim ascended, his hands +still held beneath his arms, his long mustache and his grizzled beard +blown awry in the breeze. The pick he left behind. + +Coming thus to a deeper gouge in the sand of the hill, he halted and +gazed attentively at a thick seam of rock outcropping sharply where the +long-gone freshet had laid it bare. In mining parlance it was +"quartzy." To Jim it appeared even more. He stooped above it and +attempted to break away a fragment with his fingers. At this he +failed. Rubbing off the dust and sand wherewith old mother nature was +beginning to cover it anew, he saw little spots, at which he scratched +with his nails. + +"Awful cold it's gittin'," he drawled to himself, and sitting down on +the meagre bank of earth he once more thrust his hands beneath his coat +and looked at the outcropping dismally. + +He had doubtless been gone from the cabin half an hour, and not a +stroke had he given with his pick, when, as he sat there looking at the +ground, the voice of Keno came on the wind from the door of the shack. +Arising, Jim started at once towards his home, leaving his pick on the +hill-side a rod or two below. + +"What is it?" he called, as he neared the house. + +"Calamerty!" yelled Keno, and he disappeared within the door. + +Jim almost made haste. + +"What kind of a calamity?" said he, as he entered the room. "What's +went wrong?" + +"The lemon-pie!" said Keno, whose face was a study in the art of +expressing consternation. + +"Oh," said Jim, instantly relieved, "is that all?" + +"All?" echoed Keno. "By jinks! I can't make another before it's +Christmas, to save my neck, and I used all the sugar and nearly all the +flour we had." + +"Is it a hopeless case?" inquired Jim. + +"Some might not think so," poor Keno replied. "I scoured out the old +Dutch oven and I've got her in a-bakin', but--" + +"Well, maybe she ain't so worse." + +"Jim," answered Keno, tragically, "I didn't find out till I had her +bakin' fine. Then I looked at the bottle I thought was the lemon +extract, and, by jinks! what do you think?" + +"I don't feel up to the arts of creatin' lemon-pies," confessed the +miner, warming himself before the fire. "What happened?" + +"You have to have lemon extract--you know that?" said Keno. + +"All right." + +"Well, by jinks, Jim, it wasn't lemon extract after all! It was +hair-oil!" + +A terrible moment of silence ensued. + +Then Jim said, "Was it all the hair-oil I had?" + +"Every drop," said Keno. + +"Wal," drawled the miner, sagely, "don't take on too hard. Into each +picnic some rain must fall." + +"But the boys won't eat it," answered Keno, inconsolably. + +"You don't know," replied Jim. "You never can tell what people will +eat on Christmas till the follerin' day. They'll take to anything that +looks real pretty and smells seasonable. What did I do with my pick?" + +"You must have left it behind," said Keno. "You ain't goin' to hit the +pie with your pick?" + +"Wal, not till Christmas, anyway, Keno, and only then in case we've +busted all the knives and saws trying to git it apart," said Jim, +reassuringly. + +"Would you keep it, sure, and feed it to 'em all the same?" inquired +Keno, forlornly, eager for a ray of hope. + +"I certainly would," replied the miner. "They won't know the diff +between a lemon-pie and a can of tomatoes. So I guess I'll go and git +my pick. It may come on to snow, and then I couldn't find it till the +spring." + +Without the slightest intention of working any more, Jim sauntered back +to the place where the pick was lying on the hill and took it up. By +chance he thought of the ledge of quartz above in the rain-sluiced +channel. + +"Might as well hit her a lick," he drawled to himself, and climbing to +the spot he drove the point of his implement into a crevice of the rock +and broke away a piece of two or three pounds in weight. This he took +in his big, red hands, which were numbing in the cold. + +For a moment he looked at the fragment of quartz with unbelieving eyes. +He wet it with his tongue. Then a something that answered in Jim to +excitement pumped from his heart abruptly. + +The rock was flecked all through with tiny specks of metal that the +miner knew unerringly. + +It was gold. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE MAKING OF A CHRISTMAS-TREE + +Despite the snow that fell that night, despite the near approach of +Christmas, old Jim's discovery aroused a great excitement in the camp. +That very evening the news was known throughout all Borealis, and all +next day, in the driving storm, the hill was visited, the ledge was +viewed, and the topic was discussed at length in all its amazing +features. + +Teamsters, miners, loiterers--all, even including the gambler--came to +pay their homage at the hiding-place of one of Mammon's family. All +the mountain-side was taken up in claims. The calmest man in all the +hills was Jim himself. + +Parky made him an offer without the slightest hesitation. + +"I'll square off your bill at the store," he said, "and give you a +hundred dollars' worth of grub for the claim and prospect just as she +stands." + +"Not to-day," old Jim replied. "I never do no swapping at the other's +feller's terms when I'm busy. We've got to get ready for Christmas, +and you don't look to me like Santy Claus hunting 'round for lovely +things to do." + +"Anyway, I'll send up a lot of grub," declared the gambler, with a +wonderful softening of the heart. "I was foolin'--just havin' a +joke--the last time you was down to the store. You know you can have +the best we've got in the deck." + +"Wal, I 'ain't washed the taste of your joke clean out of my mouth just +yet, so I won't bother you to-day," drawled Jim; and with muttered +curses the gambler left, determined to have that ledge of gold-bearing +rock, let the cost be what it might. + +"I guess we'll have to quit on that there Christmas-tree," said the +blacksmith, who was present with others at the cabin. "Seems you +didn't have time to go to the Pinyon hills and fetch one back." + +"If only I hadn't puttered 'round with the work on the claim," said +Jim, "we might have had that tree as well as not. But I'll tell you +what we can do. We can cut down the alders and willows at the spring, +and bind a lot together and tie on some branches of mountain-tea and +make a tree. That is, you fellers can, for little Skeezucks ain't +a-feelin' right well to-day, and I reckon I'll stay close beside him +till he spruces up." + +"What about your mine?" inquired Lufkins. + +"It ain't agoin' to run away," said the old philosopher, calmly. "I'll +let it set there for a few more days, as long as I can't hang it up on +the tree. It's just my little present to the boy, anyhow." + +If anything had been needed to inject new enthusiasm into the plans for +a Christmas celebration or to fire anew the boyhood in the men, the +find of gold at Jim's very door would have done the trick a dozen times +over. + +With hearts new-created for the simple joys of their labor, the big +rough fellows cut the meagre growth of leafless trees at the spring in +the small ravine, and gathered evergreen mountain-tea that grew in +scrawny clusters here and there on the mountains. + +Armful after armful of this, their only possible material, they carried +to the blacksmith's shop below, and there wrought long and hard and +earnestly, tying together the wisps of green and the boughs and trunks +of tender saplings. + +Four of the stalks, the size of a lady's wrist, they fastened together +with twisted wire to form the main support, or body, of their tree, To +this the reconstructed, enlarged, and strengthened branches were +likewise wired. Lastly, the long, green spikes of the mountain shrub +were tied on, in bunches, like so many worn-out brooms. The tree, when +completed and standing in its glory in the shop, was a marvellous +creation, fully as much like a fir from the forest as a hair-brush is +like a palm. + +Then began the scheme of its decoration. One of the geniuses broke up +countless bottles, for the red and green glass they afforded, and, +tying the pieces in slings of cord, hung them in great profusion from +the tree's peculiar arms. From the ceiling of his place of business, +Bone, the barkeep, cut down a fluffy lot of colored paper, stuck there +in a great rosette, and with this he added much original beauty to the +pile. Out of cigar-boxes came a great heap of bright tin-foil that +went on the branches in a way that only men could invent. + +The carpenter loaded the structure with his gaudy blocks. The man who +had promised to make a "kind of kaliderscope" made four or five instead +of one. They were white-glass bottles filled with painted pebbles, +buttons, dimes, chopped-up pencils, scraps of shiny tin, and anything +or everything that would lend confusion or color to the bottle's +interior as the thing was rolled about or shaken in the hands. These +were so heavy as to threaten the tree's stability. Therefore, they had +to be placed about its base on the floor. + +The blacksmith had made a lot of little axes, shovels, picks, and +hammers, all of which had been filed and polished with the greatest +care and affectionate regard for the tiny man whose tree and Christmas +all desired to make the finest in the world. + +The teamster had evolved, from the inside lining of his winter coat, a +hybrid duck-dog-bear that he called a "woolly sheep." + +One of the men had whittled out no less than four fat tops, all ringed +with colors and truly beautiful to see, that he said were the best he +had ever beheld, despite the fact that something was in them that +seemed to prevent them from spinning. + +Another old fellow brought a pair of rusty skates which were large +enough for a six-foot man. He told of the wonderful feats he had once +performed on the ice as he hung them on the tree for little Skeezucks. + +The envy of all was awakened, however, by Field, the father of the +camp, who fetched a drum that would actually make a noise. He had +built this wonder out of genuine sheep-skin, stretched over both of the +ends of a bright tin can of exceptional size, from which he had eaten +the contents solely with the purpose in view of procuring the metal +cylinder. + +There were wooden animals, cut-out guns, swords and daggers, +wagons--some of them made with spools for wheels--a sled on which the +paint was still wet, and dolls suspiciously suggestive of +potato-mashers and iron spoons, notwithstanding their clothing. There +were balls of every size and color, coins of gold and silver, and books +made up of pasted pictures, culled for the greater part from cans of +peaches, oysters, tomatoes, lobsters, and salmon. + +Nearly every man had fashioned something, and hardly anything had been +left unpainted. The clumsy old "boys" of the town had labored with +untold patience to perfect their gifts. Their earnestness over the +child and the day was a beautiful thing to see. Never were presents +more impressive as to weight. The men had made them splendidly strong. + +The gifts had been ticketed variously, many being marked "For Little +Skeezucks," but by far the greatest number bore the inscription: "For +Bruvver Jim's Baby--Merry Christmas." + +The tree, by the time the things had been lashed upon its branches, +needed propping and guying in every direction. The placing of big, +white candles upon it, however, strained the skill and self-control of +the men to the last degree. If a candle prefers one set of antics to +another, that set is certainly embodied in the versatile schemes for +lopping over, which the wretched thing will develop on the +best-behaving tree in the world. On a home-made tree the opportunities +for a candle's enjoyment of this, its most diverting of +accomplishments, are increased remarkably. The day was cold, but the +men perspired from every pore, and even then the night came on before +the work was completed. + +When at length they ceased their labors for the day, there was still +before them the appalling task of preparing the Christmas banquet. + +In the general worry incident to all such preparations throughout the +world, Parky, the gambler, fired an unexpected shot. He announced his +intention of giving the camp a grand celebration of his own. The +"Palace" saloon would be thrown wide open for the holiday, and food, +drink, music, and dancing would be the order of the memorable occasion. + +"It's a game to knock our tree and banquet into a cocked hat," said the +blacksmith, grimly. "Well--he may get some to come, but none of old +Jim's friends or the fellers which likes little Skeezucks is goin' to +desert our own little festival." + +Nevertheless, the glitter of the home-made tree in the dingy shop was +dimmed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THEIR CHRISTMAS-DAY + +The day before Christmas should, by right of delights about to blossom, +be nearly as happy as the sweet old carnival itself, but up at the +cabin on the hill it was far from being joyous. + +The tiny mite of a foundling was not so well as when his friends had +left him on the previous afternoon. + +He was up and dressed, sitting, in his grave little way, on the miner's +knee, weakly holding his crushed-looking doll, but his cold had +increased, his sweet baby face was paler, the sad, dumb look in his +eyes was deeper in its questioning, the breakfast that the fond old Jim +had prepared was quite untasted. + +"He ain't agoin' to be right down sick, of course?" said the +blacksmith, come to report all the progress made. "Natchelly, we'd +better go on, gittin' ready fer the banquet? He'll be all right fer +to-morrow?" + +"Oh yes," said Jim. "There never yet was a Christmas that wouldn't get +a little youngster well. He'll come to the tree, you bet. It's goin' +to be the happiest time he ever had." + +Outside, the red-headed Keno was chopping at the brush. The weather +was cold and windy, the sky gray and forbidding. When the smith had +gone, old Jim, little Skeezucks, and the pup were alone. Tintoretto, +the joyous, was prancing about with a boot in his jaws. He stumbled +constantly over its bulk, and growled anew at every interference with +his locomotion. + +"Does little pardner like the pup?" said Jim, patting the sick little +man on the back with his clumsy but comforting hand. "Do you want him +to come here and play?" + +The wee bit of a parentless, deserted boy slowly shook his head. + +"Don't you like him any more?" said Jim. + +A weak little nod was the answer. + +"Is there anything the baby wants?" inquired the miner, tenderly. +"What would little Skeezucks like?" + +For the very first time since his coming to the camp the little +fellow's brown eyes abruptly filled with tears. His tiny lip began to +tremble. + +"Bruv-ver Jim," he said, and, leaning against the rough old coat of the +miner, he cried in his silent way of passionate longing, far too deep +in his childish nature for the man to comprehend. + +"Poor little man ain't well," said Jim, in a gentle way of soothing. +"Bruvver Jim is here all right, and goin' to stay," and, holding the +quiet little figure to his heart, he stood up and walked with him up +and down the dingy cabin's length, till the shaking little sobs had +ceased and the sad little man had gone to sleep. + +All day the miner watched the sleeping or the waking of the tiny +pilgrim. The men who came to tell of the final completion of the tree +and the greater preparations for the feast were assured that the one +tiny guest for whom their labors of love were being expended would +surely be ready to enjoy the celebration. + +The afternoon gave way to night in the manner common to wintry days. +From time to time a gust of wind tore the fleece from the clouds and +hurled it in snow upon the silent earth. Dimly the lights of the +cabins shone through the darkness and the chill. + +At the blacksmith's shop the wind went in as if to warm itself before +the forge, only to find it chill and black, wherefore it crept out +again at the creaking door. A long, straight pencil of snow was flung +through a chink, across the earthen floor and against the swaying +Christmas-tree, on which the, presents, hanging in readiness for little +Skeezucks, beat out a dull, monotonous clatter of tin and wood as they +collided in the draught. + +The morning--Christmas morning--broke with one bright gleam of +sunlight, shining through the leaden banks before the cover of clouds +was once more dropped upon the broken rim of mountains all about. + +Old Jim was out of his bunk betimes, cooking a breakfast fit, he said, +"to tempt a skeleton to feast." + +True to his scheme of ensnaring the gray old miner in an idleness with +regard to his mine which should soon prove a fatal mistake, Parky, the +gambler, had sent a load of the choicest provisions from the store to +the cabin on the hill. Only too glad of the daintier morsels thus +supplied for his ailing little guest, old Jim had made but feeble +protest when the things arrived, and now was preparing a meal from the +nicest of the packages. + +Little Skeezucks, however, waked in a mood of lethargy not to be +fathomed by mere affection. Not only did he turn away at the mere +suggestion of eating, but he feebly hid his face and gave a little moan. + +"He ain't no better," Jim announced, putting down a breakfast-dish with +its cargo quite untasted. "I wish we had a little bit of medicine." + +"What kind?" said the worried Keno. + +"It wouldn't make much difference," answered the miner. "Anything is +medicine that a doctor prescribes, even if it's only sugar-and-water." + +"But there ain't a doctor into camp," objected Keno, hauling at his +sleeves. "And the one they had in Bullionville has went away, and he +was fifty miles from here." + +"I know," said Jim. + +"You don't think he's sick?" inquired Keno, anxiously. + +Jim looked long at his tiny foundling dressed in the nightie that came +below his feet. A dull, heavy look was in the little fellow's eyes, +half closed and listless. + +"He ain't no better," the miner repeated. "I don't know what to do." + +Keno hesitated, coughed once or twice, and stirred the fire fiercely +before he spoke again. Then he said, "Miss Doc is a sort of female +doctor. She knows lots of female things." + +"Yes, but she can't work 'em off on the boy," said Jim. "He ain't big +enough to stand it." + +"No, I don't suppose he is," agreed Keno, going to the window, on which +he breathed, to melt away the frosty foliage of ice. "I think there's +some of the boys a-comin'--yep--three or four." + +The boots of the men could be heard, as they creaked on the crisply +frozen snow, before the visitors arrived at the door. Keno let them +in, and with them an oreole of chill and freshness flavored spicily of +winter. There were three--the carpenter, Bone, and Lufkins. + +"How's the little shaver?" Bone inquired at once. + +"About the same," said Jim. "And how's the tree?" + +"All ready," answered Lufkins. "Old Webber's got a bully fire, and +iron melting hot, to warm the shop. The tree looks great. She's all +lit up, and the doors all shut to make it dark, and you bet she's a +gem--a gorgeous gem--ain't she, fellers?" + +The others agreed that it was. + +"And the boys are nearly all on deck," resumed the teamster, "and +Webber wanted to know if the morning--Christmas morning--ain't the time +for to fetch the boy." + +"Wal, some might think so," Jim replied, unwilling to concede that the +tiny man in the bunk was far too ill to join in the cheer so early in +the day. "But the afternoon is the regular parliamentary time, and, +anyway, little Skeezucks 'ain't had his breakfast, boys, and--we want +to be sure the shop is good and warm." + +"The boys is all waitin' fer to give three cheers," said the carpenter, +"and we're goin' to surprise you with a Christmas song called 'Massa's +in the Cole, Cole Ground.'" + +"Shut up!" said Bone; "you're givin' it all away. So you won't bring +him down this mornin'?" + +"Well, we'll tell 'em," agreed the disappointed Lufkins. "What time do +you think you'll fetch the little shaver, then, this afternoon?" + +"I guess about twelve," said Jim. + +"How's he feelin'?" inquired the carpenter. + +"Wal, he don't know how to feel on Christmas yet," answered the miner, +evasively. "He doesn't know what's a-comin'." + +"Wait till he sees them blocks," said the carpenter, with a knowing +wink. + +"I ain't sayin' nothin'," added Lufkins, with the most significant +smile, "but you jest wait." + +"Nor me ain't doin' any talkin'," said Bone. + +"Well, the boys will all be waitin'," was the teamster's last remark, +and slowly down the whitened hill they went, to join their fellows at +the shop of the smith. + +The big, rough men did wait patiently, expectantly, loyally. Blowing +out the candles, to save them for the moment when the tiny child should +come, they sat around, or stood about, or wandered back and forth, each +togged out in his very best, each with a new touch of Christmas meaning +in his heart. + +Behind the tree a goodly portion of the banquet was in readiness. +Keno's pie was there, together with a mighty stack of doughnuts, plates +on plates of pickles, cans of fruit preserves, a mighty pan of cold +baked beans, and a fine array of biscuits big as a man's two fists. +From time to time the carpenter, who had saved up his appetite for +nearly twenty-four hours, went back to the table and feasted his eyes +on the spread. At length he took and ate a pickle. From that, at +length, his gaze went longingly to Keno's pie. How one little pie +could do any good to a score or so of men he failed to see. At last, +in his hunger, he could bear the temptation no longer. He descended on +the pie. But how it came to be shied through the window, practically +intact, half a moment later, was never explained to the waiting crowd. + +By the time gray noon had come across the mountain desolation to the +group of little shanties in the snow, old Jim was thoroughly alarmed. +Little Skeezucks was helplessly lying in his arms, inert, breathing +with difficulty, and now and again moaning, as only a sick little mite +of humanity can. + +"We can't take him down," said the miner, at last. "He ought to have a +woman's care." + +Keno was startled; his worry suddenly engulfed him. + +"What kin we do?" he asked, in helplessness. + +"Miss Doc's a decent woman," answered Jim, in despair. "She might know +what to do." + +"You couldn't bring yourself to that?" asked Keno, thoroughly amazed. + +"I could bring myself to anything," said Jim, "if only my little boy +could be well and happy." + +"Then you ain't agoin' to take him down to the tree?" + +"How can I?" answered Jim. "He's awful sick. He needs something more +than I can give. He needs--a mother. I didn't know how sick he was +gettin'. He won't look up. He couldn't see the tree. He can't be +like the most of little kids, for he don't even seem to know it's +Christmas." + +"Aw, poor little feller!" said Keno. "Jim, what we goin' to do?" + +"You go down and ask Miss Doc if I can fetch him there," instructed +Jim. "I think she likes him, or she wouldn't have made his little +clothes. She's a decent woman, and I know she's got a heart. Go on +the run! I'm sorry I didn't give in before." + +The fat little Keno ran, in his shirt-sleeves, and without his hat. + +Jim was afraid the motionless little foundling was dying in his arms. +He could presently wait no longer, either for Keno's return or for +anything else. He caught up two of the blankets from the bed, and, +wrapping them eagerly, swiftly about the moaning little man, left his +cabin standing open and hastened down the white declivity as fast as he +could go, Tintoretto, with puppy whinings of concern, closely tagging +at his heels. + +Lufkins, starting to climb once more to the cabin, beheld him from +afar. With all his speed he darted back to the blacksmith-shop and the +tree. + +"He coming!" he cried, when fifty yards away. "Light the +candles--quick!" + +In a fever of joy and excitement the rough fellows lighted up their +home-made tree. The forge flung a largess of heat and light, as red as +holly, through the gloom of the place. All the men were prepared with +a cheer, their faces wreathed with smiles, in a new sort of joy. But +the moments sped away in silence and nothing of Jim and the one small +cause of their happiness appeared. Indeed, the gray old miner was at +Dennihan's already. Keno had met him on the hill with an eager cry +that welcome and refuge were gladly prepared. + +With her face oddly softened by the news and appeal, Miss Doc herself +came running to the gate, her hungry arms outstretched to take the +child. + +"Just make him well," was Jim's one cry. "I know a woman can make him +well." + +And all afternoon the men at the blacksmith's-shop kept up their hope. +Keno had come to them, telling of the altered plans by which little +Skeezucks had found his way to Miss Doc, but by special instruction he +added that Jim was certain that improvement was coming already. + +"He told me that evenin' is the customary hour fer to have a tree, +anyhow," concluded Keno, hopefully. "He says he was off when he said +to turn it loose at noon." + +"Does he think Miss Doc can git the little feller fixed all up to +celebrate to-night?" inquired Bone. "Is that the bill of fare?" + +"That's about it," said Keno, importantly. "I'm to come and let you +know when we're ready." + +Impatient for the night to arrive, excited anew, when at last it closed +in on the world of snow and mountains, the celebrators once more +gathered at the shop and lighted up their tree. The wind was rushing +brusquely up the street; the snow began once more to fall. From the +"Palace" saloon came the sounds of music, laughter, song, and revelry. +Light streamed forth from the window in glowing invitation. All day +long its flow of steaming drinks and its endless succession of savory +dishes had laded the air with temptation. + +Not a few of the citizens of Borealis had succumbed to the gayer +attractions of Parky's festival, but the men who had builded a +Christmas-tree and loaded its branches with presents waited and waited +for tiny Skeezucks in the dingy shop. + +The evening passed. Night aged in the way that wintry storm and +lowering skies compel. Dismally creaked the door on its rusted hinges. +Into the chink shot the particles of snow, and formed again that icy +mark across the floor of the shop. One by one the candles burned away +on the tree, gave a gasp, a flare, and expired. + +Silently, loyally the group of big, rough miners and toilers sat in the +cheerless gloom, hearing that music, in its soullessness, come on the +gusts of the storm--waiting, waiting for their tiny guest. + +At length a single candle alone illumined their pitiful tree, standing +with its meagre branches of greenery stiffly upheld on its scrawny +frame, while the darkness closed sombrely in upon the glint of the toys +they had labored to make. + +Then finally Keno came, downcast, pale, and worried. + +"The little feller's awful sick," he said. "I guess he can't come to +the tree." + +His statement was greeted in silence. + +"Then, maybe he'll see it to-morrow," said the blacksmith, after a +moment. "It wouldn't make so very much odds to us old cusses. +Christmas is for kids, of course. So we'll leave her standing jest as +she is." + +Slowly they gave up their final hopes. Slowly they all went out in the +storm and night, shutting the door on the Christmas celebration now +abandoned to darkness, the creak of the hinges, the long line of snow +inside that pointed to the tree. + +One by one they bade good-night to Webber, the smith, and so went home +to many a cold little cabin, seemingly hunched like a freezing thing in +the driving storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +"IF ONLY I HAD THE RESOLUTION" + +For the next three or four days the tiny bit of a man at Miss Doc's +seemed neither to be worse nor better of his ailment. The hand of +lethargy lay with dulling weight upon him. Old Jim and Miss Dennihan +were baffled, though their tenderness increased and their old animosity +disappeared, forgotten in the stress of care. + +That the sister of Doc could develop such a spirit of motherhood +astounded nearly every man in the camp. Accustomed to acerbities of +criticism for their many shortcomings from her ever-pointed tongue, +they marvelled the more at her semi-partnership with Jim, whom of all +the population of the town she had scorned and verbally castigated most +frequently. + +Resupplying their tree with candles, the patient fellows had kept alive +their hope of a great day of joy and celebration, only to see it +steadily receding from their view. At length they decided to carry +their presents to the house where the wan little foundling lay, +trusting the sight of their labors of love might cheer him to recovery. + +To the utter amazement of her brother, Miss Doc not only permitted the +big, rough men to track the snow through her house, when they came with +their gifts, but she gave them kindly welcome. In her face that day +they readily saw some faint, illusive sign of beauty heretofore +unnoticed, or perhaps concealed. + +"He'll come along all right," she told them, with a smile they found to +be singularly sweet, "for Jim do seem a comfort to the poor little +thing." + +Old Jim would surely have been glad to believe that he or anything +supplied a comfort to the grave little sick man lying so quietly in +bed. The miner sat by him all day long, and far into every night, only +climbing to his cabin on the hill when necessity drove him away. Then +he was back there in the morning by daylight, eager, but cheerful +always. + +The presents were heaped on the floor in sight of the pale little +Skeezucks, who clung unfailingly, through it all, to the funny +makeshift of a doll that "Bruvver Jim" had placed in his keeping. He +appeared not at all to comprehend the meaning of the gifts the men had +brought, or to know their purpose. That never a genuinely happy +Christmas had brightened his little, mysterious life, Miss Dennihan +knew by a swift, keen process of womanly intuition. + +"I wisht he wasn't so sad," she said, from time to time. "I expect +he's maybe pinin'." + +On the following day there came a change. The little fellow tossed in +his bed with a fever that rose with every hour. With eyes now burning +bright, he scanned the face of the gray old miner and begged for +"Bruvver Jim." + +"This is Bruvver Jim," the man assured him repeatedly. "What does baby +want old Jim to do?" + +"Bruv-ver--Jim," came the half-sobbed little answer. "Bruv-ver--Jim." + +Jim took him up and held him fast in his arms. The weary little mind +had gone to some tragic baby past. + +"No-body--wants me--anywhere," he said. + +The heart in old Jim was breaking. He crooned a hundred tender +declarations of his foster-parenthood, of his care, of his wish to be a +comfort and a "pard." + +But something of the fever now had come between the tiny ears and any +voice of tenderness. + +"Bruv-ver--Jim; Bruv-ver--Jim," the little fellow called, time and time +again. + +With the countless remedies which her lore embraced, the almost +despairing Miss Doc attempted to allay the rising fever. She made +little drinks, she studied all the bottles in her case of simples with +unremitting attention. + +Keno, the always-faithful, was sent to every house in camp, seeking for +anything and everything that might be called a medicine. It was all of +no avail. By the time another day had dawned little Skeezucks was +flaming hot with the fever. He rolled his tiny body in baby delirium, +his feeble little call for "Bruvver Jim" endlessly repeated, with his +sad little cry that no one wanted him anywhere in the world. + +In his desperation, Jim was undergoing changes. His face was haggard; +his eyes were ablaze with parental anguish. + +"I know a shrub the Injuns sometimes use for fever," he said to Miss +Doc, at last, when he suddenly thought of the aboriginal medicine. "It +grows in the mountains. Perhaps it would do him good." + +"I don't know," she answered, at the end of her resources, and she +clasped her hands. "I don't know." + +"If only I can git a horse," said Jim, "I might be able to find the +shrub." + +He waited, however, by the side of the moaning little pilgrim. + +Then, half an hour later, Bone, the bar-keep, came up to see him, in +haste and excitement. They stood outside, where the visitor had called +him for a talk. + +"Jim," said Bone, "you're in fer trouble. Parky is goin' to jump your +claim to-night--it bein' New Year's eve, you know--at twelve o'clock. +He told me so himself. He says you 'ain't done assessment, nor you +can't--not now--and you 'ain't got no more right than anybody else to +hold the ground. And so he's meanin' to slap a new location on the +claim the minute this here year is up." + +"Wal, the little feller's awful sick," said Jim. "I'm thinkin' of +goin' up in the mountains for some stuff the Injuns sometimes use for +fever." + +"You can't go and leave your claim unprotected," said Bone. + +"How did Parky happen to tell you his intentions?" said Jim. + +"He wanted me to go in with him," Bone replied, flushing hotly at the +bare suggestion of being involved in a trick so mean. "He made me +promise, first, I wouldn't give the game away, but I've got to tell it +to you. I couldn't stand by and see you lose that gold-ledge now." + +"To-morrow is New Year's, sure enough," Jim replied, reflectively. +"That mine belongs to little Skeezucks." + +"But Parky's goin' to jump it, and he's got a gang of toughs to back +him up." + +"I'd hate to lose it, Bone. It would seem hard," said Jim. "But I +ought to go up in the hills to find that shrub. If only I had a horse. +I could go and git back in time to watch the claim." + +Bone was clearly impatient. + +"Don't git down to the old 'if only' racket now," he said, with heat. +"I busted my word to warn you, Jim, and the claim is worth a fortune to +you and little Skeezucks." + +Jim's eyes took on a look of pain. + +"But, Bone, if he don't git well," he said--"if he don't git well, +think how I'd feel! Couldn't you get me a horse? If only--" + +"Hold on," interrupted Bone, "I'll do all I kin for the poor little +shaver, but I don't expect I can git no horse. I'll go and see, but +the teams has all got the extry stock in harness, fer the roads is +mighty tough, and snow, down the canon, is up to the hubs of the +wheels. You've got to be back before too late or your claim goes up, +fer, Jim, you know as well as me that Parky's got the right of law!" + +"If only I could git that shrub," said Jim, as his friend departed, and +back to the tossing little man he went, worried to the last degree. + +Bone was right. The extra horses were all in requisition to haul the +ore to the quartz-mill through a stretch of ten long miles of drifted +snow. Moreover, Jim had once too often sung his old "if-only" cry. +The men of Borealis smiled sadly, as they thought of tiny Skeezucks, +but with doubt of Jim, whose resolutions, statements, promises, had +long before been estimated at their final worth. + +"There ain't no horse he could have," said Lufkins, making ready +himself to drive his team of twenty animals through wind and snow to +the mill, "and even if we had a mule, old Jim would never start. It's +comin' on to snow again to-night, and that's too much for Jim." + +Bone was not at once discouraged, but in truth he believed, with all +the others, that Jim would no more leave the camp to go forth and +breast the oncoming snow to search the mountains for a shrub than he +would fetch a tree for the Christmas celebration or work good and hard +at his claim. + +The bar-keep found no horse. He expected none to be offered, and felt +his labors were wasted. The afternoon was well advanced when he came +again to the home of Miss Doc, where Jim was sitting by the bed whereon +the little wanderer was burning out his life. + +"Jim," he said, in his way of bluntness, "there ain't no horse you can +git, but I warned you 'bout the claim, and I don't want to see you lose +it, all fer nothin'." + +"He's worse," said Jim, his eyes wildly blazing with love for the +fatherless, motherless little man. "If only I had the resolution, +Bone, I'd go and git that shrub on foot." + +"You'd lose yer claim," said Bone. + +Miss Doc came out to the door where they stood. She was wringing her +hands. + +"Jim," she said, "if you think you kin, anyhow, git that Injun stuff, +why don't you go and git it?" + +Jim looked at her fixedly. Not before had he known that she felt the +case to be so nearly hopeless. Despair took a grip on his vitals. A +something of sympathy leaped from the woman's heart to his--a something +common to them both--in the yearning that a helpless child had stirred. + +"I'll get my hat and go," he said, and he went in the house, to appear +almost instantly, putting on the battered hat, but clothed far too +thinly for the rigors of the weather. + +"But, Jim, it's beginning to snow, right now," objected Bone. + +"I may get back before it's dark," old Jim replied. + +"I can see you're goin' to lose the claim," insisted Bone. + +"I'm goin' to git that shrub!" said Jim. "I won't come back till I git +that shrub." + +He started off through the gate at the back of the house, his long, +lank figure darkly cut against the background of the white that lay +upon the slope. A flurry of blinding snow came suddenly flying on the +wind. It wrapped him all about and hid him in its fury, and when the +calmer falling of the flakes commenced he had disappeared around the +shoulder of the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE GOLD IN BOREALIS + +The men to whom the bar-keep told the story of Jim and his start into +the mountains smiled again. The light in their eyes was half of +affection and half of concern. They could not believe the shiftless +old miner would long remain away in the snow and wind, where more than +simple resolution was required to keep a man afoot. They would see him +back before the darkness settled on the world, perhaps with something +in his hand by way of a weed, if not precisely the "Injun" thing he +sought. + +But the darkness came and Jim was not at hand. The night and the snow +seemed swirling down together in the gorge, from every lofty uprise of +the hills. It was not so cold as the previous storm, yet it stung with +its biting force. + +At six o'clock the blacksmith called at the Dennihans', in some +anxiety. Doc himself threw open the door, in response to the knock. +How small and quiet he appeared, here at home! + +"No, he 'ain't showed up," he said of Jim. "I don't know when he'll +come." + +Webber reported to the boys. + +"Well, mebbe he's gone, after all," said Field. + +"He looked kind of funny 'round the eyes when he started," Bone +informed them. "I hope he'll git his stuff," and they wandered down +the street again. + +At eight o'clock the bar-keep returned once more to Miss Doc's. + +No Jim was there. The sick little foundling was feebly calling in his +baby way for "Bruvver Jim." + +The fever had him in its furnace. Restlessly, but now more weakly +weaving, the tiny bit of a man continued as ever to cling to his doll, +which he held to his breast with all that remained of his strength. It +seemed as if his tired baby brain was somehow aware that Jim was gone, +for he begged to have him back in a sweet little way of entreaty, +infinitely sad. + +"Bruvver Jim?" he would say, in his questioning little voice--"Bruvver +Jim?" And at last he added, "Bruvver Jim--do--yike--'ittle Nu--thans." + +At this Miss Doc felt her heart give a stroke of pain, for something +that was almost divination of things desolate in the little fellow's +short years of babyhood was granted to her woman's understanding. + +"Bruvver Jim will come," she said, as she knelt beside the bed. "He'll +come back home to the baby." + +But nine o'clock and ten went by, and only the storm outside came down +from the hills to the house. + +Hour after hour the lamp was burning in the window as a beacon for the +traveller; hour after hour Miss Dennihan watched the fever and the +weary little fellow in its toils. At half-past ten the blacksmith, the +carpenter, and Kew came, Tintoretto, the pup, coldly trembling, at +their heels. Jim was not yet back, and the rough men made no +concealment of their worry. + +"Not home?" said Webber. "Out in the hills--in this?" + +"You don't s'pose mebbe he's lost?" inquired the carpenter. + +"No, Jim knows his mountains," replied the smith, "but any man could +fall and break his leg or somethin'." + +"I wisht he'd come," said Miss Doc. "I wisht that he was home." + +The three men waited near the house for half an hour more, but in vain. +It was then within an hour of midnight. Slowly, at last, they turned +away, but had gone no more than half a dozen rods when they met the +bar-keep, Doc Dennihan, Lufkins the teamster, and four other men of the +camp, who were coming to see if Jim had yet returned. + +"I thought he mebbe hadn't come," said Bone, when Webber gave his +report, "but Parky's goin' to try to jump his claim at twelve o'clock, +and we ain't goin' fer to stand it! Come on down to my saloon fer +extry guns and ammunition. We're soon goin' up on the hill to hold the +ledge fer Jim and the poor little kid." + +With ominous coupling of the gambler's name with rough and emphatic +language, the ten men marched in a body down the street. + +The wind was howling, a door of some deserted shed was dully, +incessantly slamming. + +Helplessly Miss Dennihan sat by the bed whereon the tiny pilgrim lay, +now absolutely motionless. The fever had come to its final stage. Dry +of skin, burning through and through, his little mouth parched despite +the touch of cooling water on his lips, the wee mite of a man without a +name, without a home, or a mother, or a single one of the baby things +that make the little folks so joyous, had ceased to struggle, and +ceased at last to call for "Bruvver Jim." + +Then, at a quarter-past eleven, the outside door was suddenly thrown +open, and in there staggered Jim, a haggard, wild-eyed being, ghastly +white, utterly exhausted, and holding in his hand a wretched, scrawny +branch of the mountain shrub he had gone to seek. + +"Oh, Jim! Jim!" cried Miss Doc, and, running forward, she threw her +arm around his waist to keep him up, for she thought he must fall at +every step, + +"He's--alive?" he asked her, hoarsely. "He's alive? I only asked to +have him wait! Hot water!--get the stuff in water--quick!" and he +thrust the branch into her hand. + +Beside the bed, on his great, rough knees, he fairly fell, crooning +incoherently, and by a mighty effort keeping his stiff, cold hands from +the tiny form. + +Miss Doc had kept a plate of biscuit warm in the stove. One of these +and a piece of meat she gave to the man, bidding him eat it for the +warmth his body required. + +"Fix the shrub in the water," he begged. + +"It's nearly ready now," she answered. "Take a bite to eat." + +Then, presently, she came again to his side. "I've got the stuff," she +said, awed by the look of anguish on the miner's face, and into his +hands she placed a steaming pitcher, a cup, and a spoon, after which +she threw across his shoulders a warm, thick blanket, dry and +comforting. + +Already the shrub had formed a dark, pungent liquor of the water poured +upon it. Turning out a cupful in his haste, old Jim flowed the +scalding stuff across his hands. It burned, but he felt no pain. The +spoonful that he dipped from the cup he placed to his own cold lips, to +test. He blew upon it as a mother might, and tried it again. + +Then tenderly he fed the tea through the dry little lips. Dully the +tiny man's unseeing eyes were fixed on his face. + +"Take it, for old Bruvver Jim," the man gently coaxed, and spoonful +after spoonful, touched every time to his own mouth first, to try its +heat, he urged upon the little patient. + +Then Miss Doc did a singular thing. She put on a shawl and, abruptly +leaving the house, ran with all her might down the street, through the +snow, to Bone's saloon. For the very first time in her life she +entered this detested place, a blazing light of joy in her eyes. Six +of the men, about to join the four already gone to the hill above, +where Jim had found the gold, were about to leave for the claim. + +"He's come!" cried Miss Doc. "He's home--and got the weed! I thought +you boys would like to know!" + +Then backing out, with a singular smile upon her face, she hastened to +return to her home with all the speed the snow would permit. + +Alone in the house with the silent little pilgrim, who seemed beyond +all human aid, the gray old miner knew not what he should do. The +shrub tea was failing, it seemed to him. The sight of the drooping +child was too much to be borne. The man threw back his head as he +knelt there on the floor, and his stiffened arms were appealingly +uplifted in prayer. + +"God Almighty," he said, in his broken voice of entreaty, "don't take +this little boy away from me! Let him stay. Let him stay with me and +the boys. You've got so many little youngsters there. For Christ's +sake, let me have this one!" + +When Miss Doc came quietly in, old Jim had not apparently moved. He +was once more dipping the pungent liquor from the cup and murmuring +words of endearment and coaxing, to the all-unhearing little patient. +The eager woman took off her shawl and stood behind him, watching +intently. + +"Oh, Jim!" she said, from time to time--"oh, Jim!" + +With a new supply of boiling water, constantly heated on her stove, she +kept the steaming concoction fresh and hot. + +Midnight came. The New Year was blown across those mighty peaks in +storm and fury. Presently out of the howling gale came the sound of +half a dozen shots, and then of a fusillade. But Jim, if he heard +them, did not guess the all they meant to him. + +For an hour he had only moved his hands to take the pitcher, or to put +it down, or to feed the drink to the tiny foundling, still so +motionless and dull with the fever. + +One o'clock was finally gone, and two, and three. Jim and the yearning +Miss Doc still battled on, like two united parents. + +Then at last the miner made a half-stifled sound in his throat. + +"You--can go and git a rest," he said, brokenly. "The sweat has come." + + +All night the wind and the storm continued. All through the long, long +darkness, the bitter cold and snow were searching through the hills. +But when, at last, the morning broke, there on the slope, where old +Jim's claim was staked, stood ten grim figures, white with snow, and +scattered here and there around the ledge of gold. They were Bone and +Webber, Keno and Field, Doc Dennihan, the carpenter, the teamster, and +other rough but faithful men who had guarded the claim against invasion +in the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +ARRIVALS IN CAMP + +There is something fine in a party of men when no one brags of a fight +brought sternly to victory. + +Parky, the gambler, was badly shot through the arm; Bone, the bar-keep, +had a long, straight track through his hair, cleaned by a ball of lead. +And this was deemed enough of a story when the ten half-frozen men had +secured the claim to Jim and his that New-Year's morning. + +But the camp regretted on the whole that, instead of being shelved at +his house, the gambler had not been slain. + +For nearly a week the wan little foundling, emerging from the vale of +shadows at the home of Miss Dennihan, lay as if debating, in his grave, +baby way, the pros and cons of existence. And even when, at last, he +was well on the road to recovery, he somehow seemed more quiet than +ever before. + +The rough old "boys" of the town could not, by any process of their +fertile brains, find an adequate means of expressing their relief and +delight when they knew at last the quaint little fellow was again +himself. + +They came to Miss Dennihan's in groups, with brand-new presents and +with wonderful spirits. They played on the floor like so many +well-meaning bears; they threatened to fetch their poor, neglected +Christmas-tree from the blacksmith-shop; they urged Miss Doc to start a +candy-pull, a night-school, a dancing-class, and a game of +blindman's-buff forthwith. Moreover, not a few discovered traces of +beauty and sweetness in the face of the formerly plain, severe old +maid, and slyly one or two began a species of courtship. + +On all their manoeuvres the little convalescent looked with grave +curiosity. Such antics he had surely never seen. Pale and silent, as +he sat on Jim's big knee one evening, he watched the men intently, +their crude attempts at his entertainment furnishing an obvious puzzle +to his tiny mind. Then presently he looked with wonder and awe at the +presents, unable to understand that all this wealth of bottles, cubes, +tops, balls, and wagons was his own. + +The carpenter was spelling "cat" and "dog" and "Jim" with the blocks, +while Field was rolling the balls on the floor and others were +demonstrating the beauties and functions of kaleidoscopes and endless +other offerings; but through it all the pale little guest of the camp +still held with undiminished fervor to the doll that Jim had made when +first he came to Borealis. + +"We'd ought to git up another big Christmas," said the blacksmith, +standing with his arms akimbo. "He didn't have no holidays worth a +cent." + +"We could roll 'em all into one," suggested Field--"Christmas, New +Year's, St. Valentine's, and Fourth of July." + +"What's the matter with Washington's birthday?" Bone inquired. + +"And mine?" added Keno, pulling down his sleeves. "By jinks! it comes +next week." + +"Aw, you never had a birthday," answered the teamster. "You was jest +mixed up and baked, like gingerbread." + +"Or a lemon pie," said the carpenter, with obvious sarcasm. + +"Wal, holidays are awful hard for some little folks to digest," said +Jim. "I'm kind of scared to see another come along." + +"I should think to-night is pretty near holiday enough," said the +altered Miss Doc. "Our little boy has come 'round delightful." + +"Kerrect," said Bone. "But if us old cusses could see him sort of +laughin' and crowin' it would do us heaps of good." + +"Give him time," said the teamster. "Some of the sickenest crowin' I +ever heard was let out too soon." + +The carpenter said, "You jest leave him alone with these here blocks +for a day or two, if you want to hear him laugh." + +"'Ain't we all laughed at them things enough to suit you yit?" inquired +Bone. "Some people would want you to laugh at their funeral, I reckon." + +"Wal, laughin' ain't everything there is worth the havin'," Jim +drawled. "Some people's laughin' has made me ashamed, and some has +made me walk with a limp, and some has made me fightin' mad. When +little Skeezucks starts it off--I reckon it's goin' to make me a boy +again, goin' in swimmin' and eatin' bread-and-molasses." + +For the next few days, however, Jim and the others were content to see +the signs of returning baby strength that came to little Skeezucks. +That the clearing away of the leaden clouds, and the coming of beauty +and sunshine, pure and dazzling, had a magical effect upon the tiny +chap, as well as on themselves, the men were all convinced. And the +camp, one afternoon, underwent a wholly novel and unexpected sensation +of delight. + +A man, with his sweet, young wife and three small, bright-faced +children, came driving to Borealis. With two big horses steaming in +the crystal air and blowing great, white clouds of mist from their +nostrils, with wheels rimmed deeply by the snow between the spokes, +with colored wraps and mittened hands, and three red worsted caps upon +the children's heads, the vision coming up the one straight street was +quite enough to warm up every heart in town. + +The rig drew up in front of the blacksmith-shop, and twenty men came +walking there to give it welcome. + +"Howdy, stranger?" said the blacksmith, as he came from his forge, +bareheaded, his leathern apron tied about his waist, his sleeves rolled +up, and his big, hairy arms akimbo. "Pleasant day. You're needin' +somethin' fixed, I see," and he nodded quietly towards a road-side job +of mending at the doubletree, which was roughly wrapped about with rope. + +"Yes. Good-morning," said the driver of the rig, a clear-eyed, +wholesome-looking man of clerical appearance. "We had a little +accident. We've come from Bullionville. How long do you think it will +take you to put us in shape?" + +The smith was looking at the children. + +Such a trio of blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked, unalarmed little girls had +never before been seen in Borealis; and they all looked back at him and +the others with the most engaging frankness. + +"Well, about how far you goin'?" said the smith, by way of answer. + +"To Fremont," replied the stranger. "I'm a preacher, but they thought +they couldn't support a church at Bullionville," he added, with a look, +half mirth, half worry, in his eyes. "However, a man from Fremont +loaned us the horses and carriage, so we thought we'd move before the +snow fell any deeper. I'd like to go on without great delay, if the +mending can be hastened." + +"Your off horse needs shoein'," said Webber, quickly scanning every +detail of the animals and vehicle with his practised eye. "It's a long +pull to Fremont. I reckon you can't git started before the day after +tomorrow." + +To a preacher who had found himself superfluous, the thought of the +bill of expenses that would heap up so swiftly here in Borealis was +distressing. He was poor; he was worried. Like many of the miners, he +had worked at a claim that proved to be worthless in the end. + +"I--hoped it wouldn't take so long," he answered, slowly, "but then I +suppose we shall be obliged to make the best of the situation. There +are stables where I can put up the horses, of course?" + +"You kin use two stalls of mine," said the teamster, who liked the +looks of the three little girls as well as those of the somewhat shy +little mother and the preacher himself. "Boys, unhitch his stock." + +Field, Bone, and the carpenter, recently made tender over all of +youngster-kind, proceeded at once to unfasten the harness. + +"But--where are we likely to find accommodations?" faltered the +preacher, doubtfully. "Is there any hotel or boarding-house in camp?" + +"Well, not exactly--is there, Webber?" replied the teamster. "The +boardin'-house is over to the mill--the quartz-mill, ten miles down the +canon." + +"But I reckon they could stop at Doc's," replied the smith, who had +instantly determined that three bright-eyed little girls in red worsted +caps should not be permitted to leave Borealis without a visit first to +Jim and tiny Skeezucks. "Miss Doc could sure make room, even if Doc +had to bunk up at Jim's. One of you fellers jest run up and ask her, +quick! And, anyway," he added, "Mr. Preacher, you and the three little +girls ought to see our little boy." + +Field, who had recently developed a tender admiration for the +heretofore repellent Miss Doc, started immediately. + +He found old Jim and the pup already at the house where the tiny, pale +little Skeezucks still had domicile. Quickly relating the news of the +hour, the messenger delivered his query as to room to be had, in one +long gasp of breath. + +Miss Doc flushed prettily, to think of entertaining a preacher and his +family. The thought of the three little girls set her heart to beating +in a way she could not take the time to analyze. + +"Of course, they kin come, and welcome," she said. "I'll give 'em all +a bite to eat directly, but I don't jest see where I'll put so many. +If John and the preacher could both go up on the hill with you, Jim, I +'low I could manage." + +"Room there for six," said Jim, who felt some singular stirring of +excitement in his veins at the thought of having the grave little +foundling meet three other children here in the camp. "I'd give him a +bunk if Keno and me had to take to the floor." + +"All right, I'll skedaddle right back there, lickety-split, and let 'em +know," said Field. "I knowed you'd do it, Miss Doc," and away he went. + +By the time he returned to the blacksmith-shop the horses were gone to +the stable, and all the preacher's family and all their bundles were +out of the carriage. What plump-legged, healthy, inquisitive +youngsters those three small girls appeared as they stood there in the +snow. + +"All right!" said Field, as he came to the group, where everybody +seemed already acquainted and friendly. "Fixed up royal, and ye're all +expected right away." + +"We couldn't leave the little gals to walk," said the blacksmith. +"I'll carry this one myself," and, taking the largest of the children +in his big, bare arms, he swung her up with a certain gesture of +yearning not wholly under control. + +"And I'll--" + +"And I'll--" came quickly from the group, while six or eight big +fellows suddenly jostled each other in their haste to carry a +youngster. There being but two remaining, however, only two of the men +got prizes, and Field felt particularly injured because he had earned +such an honor, he felt, by running up to Doc's to make arrangements. +He and several others were obliged to be contented with the bundles, +not a few of which were threatened with destruction in the eagerness of +all to be of use. + +But presently everything was adjusted, and, deserting the carriage, the +shop, and everything else, the whole assemblage moved in procession on +the home of the Dennihans. + +A few minutes later little Skeezucks, Jim, and the pup--all of them +looking from the window of the house--saw those three small caps of +red, and felt that New-Year's day had really come at last. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +SKEEZUCKS GETS A NAME + +When the three small girls, so rosy of cheek and so sparkling of eye, +confronted the grave little pilgrim he could only gaze upon them with +timid yearning as he clung to his doll and to old "Bruvver Jim." There +never had been in all his life a vision so beautiful. Old Jim himself +was affected almost as much as the quaint, wee man so quietly standing +at his side. Even Tintoretto was experiencing ecstasies heretofore +unknown in his youthful career. + +Indeed, no one could have determined by any known system of calculation +whether Jim or tiny Skeezucks or the pup most enjoyed the coming of the +preacher and his family. Old Jim had certainly never before undergone +emotions so deeply stirring. Tintoretto had never before beheld four +youngsters affording such a wealth of opportunity for puppy-wise +manoeuvres; indeed, he had never before seen but one little playfellow +since his advent in the world. He was fairly crazed with optimism. As +for Skeezucks--starving for even so much as the sight of children, +hungering beyond expression for the sound of youngster voices, for the +laughter and over-bubblings of the little folk with whom by rights he +belonged--nothing in the way of words will ever tell of the almost +overpowering excitement and joy that presently leaped in his lonely +little heart. + +Honesty is the children's policy. There was nothing artificial in the +way those little girls fell in love with tiny Skeezucks; and with +equally engaging frankness the tiny man instantly revealed his fondness +for them all. + +They were introduced as Susie and Rachie and Ellie. Their other name +was Stowe. This much being soon made known, the three regarded their +rights to the house, to little Skeezucks, and to Tintoretto as +established. They secured the pup by two of his paws and his tail, +and, with him thus in hand, employed him to assist in surrounding tiny +Skeezucks, whom they promptly kissed and adopted. + +"Girls," said the father, mildly, "don't be rude." + +"They're all right," drawled Jim, in a new sort of pleasure. "There +are some kinds of rudeness a whole lot nicer than politeness." + +"What's his name?" said Susie, lifting her piquant little face up to +Jim, whom all the Stowe family had liked at once. "Has he got any +name?" + +In a desperate groping for his inspiration, Jim thought instantly of +all his favorites--Diogenes, Plutarch, Endymion, Socrates, Kit Carson, +and Daniel Boone. + +"Wal, yes. His name--" and there old Jim halted, while "Di" and "Plu" +and "Indy" and "Soc" all clamored in his brain for the honor. "His +name--I reckon his name is Carson Boone." + +"Little Carson," said Rachie. "Isn't Carson a sweet little boy, mammy? +What's he got--a rabbit?" + +"That's his doll," said Jim. + +"Oh, papa, look!" said Rachie. + +"Oh, papa, look!" echoed Susie. + +"Papa, yook!" piped Ellie, the youngest, who wanted the dolly for +herself, and, therefore, hauled at it lustily. + +The others endeavored to prevent her depredations. Between them they +tore the precious creation from the hands of the tiny man, and released +the pup, who immediately leaped up and fastened a hold on the doll +himself, to the horror of the preacher, Miss Doc, old Jim, Mrs. Stowe, +and Skeezucks, all of whom, save the newly christened little Carson, +pounced upon the children, the doll, and Tintoretto, with one accord. +And there is nothing like a pounce upon a lot of children or a pup to +make folks well acquainted. + +Her "powder-flask" ladyship being duly rescued, her raiment smoothed, +and her head readjusted on her body, the three small, healthy girls +were perpetually enjoined from another such exhibition of coveting +their neighbor's doll, whereupon all conceived that new diversion must +be forthwith invented. + +"You can have a lot of fun with all them Christmas presents in the +corner," Jim informed them, in the great relief he felt himself to see +the quaint little foundling once more in undisputed possession of his +one beloved toy. "They 'ain't got any feelin's." + +Miss Doc had carefully piled the presents in a tidy pyramid against the +wall, in the corner designated, after which she had covered the pile +with a sheet. This sheet came off in a hurry. The pup filled his +mouth with a yard of the white material, and, growling in joy, shook it +madly and raced away with it streaming in his wake. Miss Doc and Mrs. +Stowe gave chase immediately. Tintoretto tripped at once, but even +when the women had caught the sheet in their hands he hung on +prodigiously, and shook the thing, and growled and braced his weight +against their strength, to the uncontainable delight of all the little +Stowe contingent. + +Then they fell on the presents, to which they conveyed little Carson, +in the intimate way of hugging in transit that only small mothers-to-be +have ever been known to develop. + +"Oh, papa, look at the funny old bottle!" said Susie, taking up one of +the "sort of kaliderscopes" in her hand. + +"Papa, mamma, look!" added Rachie. + +"Papa--yook!" piped Ellie, as before, laying violent hands of +possession on the toy. + +"You can have it," said Susie; "I'm goin' to have the red wagon." + +"Oh, papa, look at the pretty red wagon!", said Rachie, dropping +another of the kaleidoscopes with commendable promptness. + +"Me!--yed yaggon!" cried Ellie. + +"Children, children!" said the preacher, secretly amused and +entertained. "Don't you know the presents all belong to little Carson?" + +"Well, we didn't get anything but mittens and caps," said Rachie, in +the baldest of candor. + +"Go ahead and enjoy the things," instructed Jim. "Skeezucks, do you +want the little girls to play with all the things?" + +The little fellow nodded. He was happier far than ever he had been in +all his life. + +"But they ought to play with one thing at a time, and not drop one +after another," said the mild Mrs. Stowe, blushing girlishly. + +"I like to see them practise at changin' their minds," drawled the +miner, philosophically. "I'd be afraid of a little gal that didn't +begin to show the symptoms." + +But all three of the bright-eyed embryos of motherhood had united on a +plan. They sat the grave little Carson in the red-painted wagon, with +his doll held tightly to his heart, and began to haul him about. + +Tintoretto, who had dragged off an alphabetical block, was engrossed in +the task of eating off and absorbing the paint and elements of +education, with a gusto that savored of something that might and might +not have been ambition. He abandoned this at once, however, to race +beside or behind or before the wagon, and to help in the pulling by +laying hold of any of the children's dresses that came most readily +within reach of his jaws. + +The ride became a romp, for the pup was barking, the wheels were +creaking, and the three small girls were crying out and laughing at the +tops of their voices. They drew their royal coach through every room +in the house--which rooms were five in number--and then began anew. + +Back and forth and up and down they hastened, the pup and tiny +Skeezucks growing more and more delighted as their lively little +friends alternately rearranged him, kissed him, crept on all fours +beside him, and otherwise added adornments to the pageant. In an +outburst of enthusiasm, Tintoretto made a gulp at the off hind-wheel of +the wagon, and, sinking his teeth in the wood thereof, not only +prevented its revolutions, but braced so hard that the smallest girl, +who was pulling at the moment, found herself suddenly stalled. To her +aid her two sturdy little sisters darted, and the three gave a mighty +tug, to haul the pup and all. + +But the unexpected happened. The wheel came off. The pup let out a +yell of consternation and turned a back somersault; the three little +Stowes went down in a heap of legs and heads, while the wagon lurched +abruptly and gave the tiny passenger a jolt that astonished him +mightily. The three small girls scrambled to their feet, awed into +silence by their breaking of the wagon. + +For a moment the hush was impressive. Then the gravity began to go +from the face of little Carson. Something was dancing in his eyes. +His quaint little face wrinkled oddly in mirth. His head went back, +and the sweetest conceivable chuckle of baby laughter came from his +lips. Like joy of bubbling water in a brook, it rippled in music never +before awakened. Old Jim and Miss Doc looked at each other in complete +amazement, but the little fellow laughed and laughed and laughed. His +heart was overflowing, suddenly, with all the laughing and joy that had +never before been invited to his heart. The other youngsters joined +him in his merriment, and so did the preacher and pretty Mrs. Stowe; +and so did Jim and Miss Doc, but these two laughed with tears warmly +welling from their eyes. + +It seemed as if the fatherless and motherless little foundling laughed +for all the days and weeks and months of sadness gone beyond his baby +recall. And this was the opening only of his frolic and fun with the +children. They kissed him in fondness, and planted him promptly in a +second of the wagons. They knew a hundred devices for bringing him joy +and merriment, not the least important of which was the irresistible +march of destruction on the rough-made Christmas treasures. + +That evening a dozen rough and awkward men of the camp came casually in +to visit Miss Doc, whose old-time set of thoughts and ideas had been +shattered, till in sheer despair of getting them all in proper order +once again she let them go and joined in the general outbreak of +amusement. + +There were games of hide-and-seek, in which the four happy children and +the men all joined with equal irresponsibility, and games of +blind-man's-buff, that threatened the breaking to pieces of the house. +Through it all, old Jim and the preacher, Mrs. Stowe and Miss Doc were +becoming more and more friendly. + +At last the day and the evening, too, were gone. The tired youngsters, +all but little Skeezucks, fell asleep, and were tucked into bed. Even +the pup was exhausted. Field and the blacksmith, Lufkins, Bone, Keno, +and the others thought eagerly of the morrow, which would come so soon, +and go so swiftly, and leave them with no little trio of girls romping +with their finally joyous bit of a boy. + +When at length they were ready to say good-night to tiny Carson, he was +sitting again on the knee of the gray old miner. To every one he gave +a sweet little smile, as they took his soft, baby hand for a shake. + +And when they were gone, and sleep was coming to hover him softly in +her wings, he held out both his little arms in a gesture of longing +that seemed to embrace the three red caps and all this happier world he +began to understand. + +"Somebody--wants 'ittle--Nu-thans," he sighed, and his tiny mouth was +smiling when his eyes had closed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +WHEN THE PARSON DEPARTED + +In the morning the preacher rolled up his sleeves and assisted Jim in +preparing breakfast in the cabin on the hill, where he and Doc, in +addition to Keno and the miner, had spent the night. Doc had departed +at an early hour to take his morning meal at home. Keno was out in the +brush securing additional fuel, the supply of which was low. + +"Jim," said Stowe, in the easy way so quickly adopted in the mines, +"how does the camp happen to have this one little child? There seem to +be no families, and that I can understand, for Bullionville is much the +same; but where did you get the pretty little boy?" + +"I found him out in the brush, way over to Coyote Valley," Jim replied. +"He was painted up to look like a little Piute, and the Injuns must +have lost him when they went through the valley hunting rabbits." + +"Found him--out in the brush?" repeated the preacher. "Was he all +alone?" + +"Not quite. He had several dead rabbits for company," Jim drawled in +reply, and he told all that was known, and all that the camp had +conjectured, concerning the finding of the grave little chap, and his +brief and none too happy sojourn in Borealis. + +The preacher listened with sympathetic attention. + +"Poor little fellow," he said, at the end. "It someway makes me think +of a thing that occurred near Bullionville. I was called to +Giant-Powder Gulch to give a man a decent burial. He had been on a +three-days' spree, and then had lain all night in the wet where the +horse-trough overflowed, and he died of quick pneumonia. Well, a man +there told me the fellow was a stranger to the Gulch. He said the +dissolute creature had appeared, on the first occasion, with a very +small child, a little boy, who he said had belonged to his sister, who +was dead. My informant said that just as soon as the fellow could +learn the location of a near-by Indian camp he had carried the little +boy away. The man who told me of it never heard of the child again, +and, in fact, had not been aware of the drunkard's return to the Gulch, +till he heard the man had died, in the rear of a highly notorious +saloon. I wonder if it's possible this quiet little chap is the same +little boy." + +"It don't seem possible a livin' man--a white man--could have done a +thing like that," said Jim. + +"No--it doesn't," Stowe agreed. + +"And yet, it must have been in some such way little Skeezucks came to +be among the Injuns," Jim reflected, aloud. Then in a moment he added; +"I'm glad you told me, parson. I know now the low-down brute that sent +him off with the Piute hunters can't never come to Borealis and take +him away." + +And yet, all through their homely breakfast old Jim was silently +thinking. A newer tenderness for the innocent, deserted little pilgrim +was welling in his heart. + +Keno, having declared his intention of shovelling off the snow and +opening up a trench to uncover the gold-ledge of the miner's claim, +departed briskly when the meal was presently finished. Jim and the +preacher, with the pup, however, went at once to the home of Miss +Dennihan, where the children were all thus early engaged in starting +off the day of romping and fun. + +The lunch that came along at noon, and the dinner that the happy Miss +Doc prepared at dusk, were mere interruptions in the play of the tiny +Carson and the lively little girls. + +There never has been, and there never can be, a measure of childish +happiness, but surely never was a child in the world more happy than +the quaint little waif who had sat all alone that bright November +afternoon in the brush where the Indian pony had dropped him. All the +games they had tried on the previous day were repeated anew by the +youngsters, and many freshly invented were enjoyed, including a romp in +the snow, with the sled that one of the miners had fashioned for the +Christmas-tree. + +That evening a larger contingent of the men who hungered for the +atmosphere of home came early to the little house and joined in the +games. Laughter made them all one human family, and songs were sung +that took them back to farms and clearings and villages, far away in +the Eastern States, where sweethearts, mothers, wives, and sisters +ofttimes waited and waited for news of a wanderer, lured far away by +the glint of silver and gold. The notes of birds, the chatter of +brooks, the tinkle of cow-bells came again, with the dreams of a +barefoot boy. + +Something of calm and a newer hope and fresher resolution was +vouchsafed to them all when the wholesome young preacher held a homely +service, in response to their earnest request. + +"Life is a mining for gold," said he, "and every human breast is a +mother-lode of the precious metal--if only some one can find the +out-croppings, locate a claim, and come upon the ledge. There are +toils, privations, and sufferings, which the search for gold brings +forever in its train. There are pains and miseries and woe in the +search for the gold in men, but, boys, it's a glorious life! There is +something so honest, so splendid, in taking the metal from the earth! +No one is injured, every one is helped. And when the gold in a man is +found, think what a gift it is to the world and to God! I am a miner +myself, but I make no gold. It is there, in the hill, or in the man, +where God has put it away, and all that you and I can do is to work, +though our hands be blistered and our hearts be sore, until we come +upon the treasure at the last. We hasten here, and we scramble there, +wheresoever the glint seems brightest, the field most promising; but +the gold I seek is everywhere, and, boys, there is gold on gold in +Borealis! + +"In the depth of the tunnel or the shaft you need a candle, throwing +out its welcome rays, to show you how to work the best and where to +dig, as you follow the lead. In the search for gold the way is very +often dark, so we'll sing a hymn that I think you will like, and then +we'll conclude with a prayer. + +"Children--girls--we will all start it off together, you and your +mother and me." + +The three little, bright-faced girls, the pretty mother, and the father +of the little flock stood there together to sing. They sang the hymn +old Jim had attempted to recall at his own little service that Sunday, +weeks before: + + "Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, + Lead Thou me on. + The night is dark and I am far from home. + Lead Thou me on. + Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see + The distant scene; one step enough for me." + +The fresh, sweet voices of the three little girls sent a thrill of +pleasure through the hearts of the big, rough men, and the lumps arose +in their throats. One after another they joined in the singing, those +who knew no words as well as those who were quick to catch a line or +more. + +Then at last the preacher held up his hand in his earnest supplication. + +"Father," he said, in his simple way, "we are only a few of Thy +children, here in the hollow of Thy mountains, but we wish to share in +the beauty of Thy smile. We want to hear the comfort of Thy voice. +Away out here in the sage-brush we pray that Thou wilt find us and take +us home to Thy heart and love. Father, when Thou sendest Thy blessing +for this little child, send enough for all the boys. Amen." + +And so the evening ended, and the night moved in majesty across the +mountains. + +In the morning, soon after breakfasts were eaten, and Jim and the +preacher had come again to the home of the Dennihans, Webber, the +blacksmith, and Lufkins, the teamster, presently arrived with the +horses and carriage. + +A large group of men swiftly gathered to bid good-bye to the children, +the shy little mother, and the fine young preacher. + +"I'm sorry to go," he told them, honestly. "I like your little camp." + +"It's goin' to be a rousin' town pretty soon, by jinks!" said Keno, +pulling at his sleeves. "I'm showin' up a great big ledge, on Jim's +Baberlonian claim." + +"Mebbe you'll some day come back here, parson," said the smith. + +"Perhaps I shall," he answered. Then a faint look of worry came on his +face as he thrust his hand in his pocket. "Before I forget it, you +must let me know what my bill is for board of the horses and also for +the work you've done." + +Webber flushed crimson. + +"There ain't no bill," he said. "What do you take us fellers +fer--since little Skeezucks came to camp? All we want is to shake +hands all 'round, with you and the missus and the little girls." + +Old Jim, little Skeezucks, the pup, and Miss Doc, with Mrs. Stowe, came +out through the snow to the road in front of the gate. Not a penny had +the preacher been able to force upon the Dennihans for their lodging +and care. + +The man tried to speak--to thank them all, but he failed. He shook +hands "all around," however, and then his shy little wife and the three +little girls did the same. Preacher and all, they kissed tiny Carson, +sitting on the arm he knew so well, and holding fast to his doll; and +he placed his wee bit of a hand on the face of each of his bright-faced +little friends. He understood almost nothing of what it meant to have +his visitors clamber into the carriage, nevertheless a grave little +query came into his eyes. + +"Well, Jim, good-bye again," said Stowe, and he shook the old miner's +hand a final time. "Good-bye, Miss Dennihan--good-bye, boys." + +With all the little youngsters in their bright red caps waving their +mittened hands and calling out good-bye, the awkward men, Miss Doc, old +Jim, and tiny Skeezucks saw them drive away. Till they came to the +bend of the road the children continued to wave, and then the great +ravine received them as if to the arms of the mountains. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +OLD JIM'S RESOLUTION + +All that day little Skeezucks and the pup were waiting, listening, +expecting the door to open and the three small girls to reappear. They +went to the window time after time and searched the landscape of +mountains and snow, Tintoretto standing on his hind-legs for the +purpose, and emitting little sounds of puppy-wise worry at the long +delay of their three little friends. + +A number of the men of the camp came to visit there again that evening. + +"We thought little Skeezucks might be lonesome," they explained. + +So often as the door was opened, the pup and the grave little +pilgrim--clothed these days in the little white frock Miss Dennihan had +made--looked up, ever in the hope, of espying again those three red +caps. The men saw the wistfulness increase in the baby's face. + +"We've got to keep him amused," said Field. + +The awkward fellows, therefore, began the games, and romped about, and +rode the lonely little foundling in the wagon, to the great delight of +poor Miss Doc, who felt, as much as the pup or Skeezucks, the singular +emptiness of her house. + +Having learned to laugh, little Carson tried to repeat the delights of +a mirthful emotion. The faint baby smile that resulted made the men +all quiet and sober. + +"He's tired, that's what the matter," the blacksmith explained. "We'd +better be goin', boys, and come to see him to-morrow." + +"Of course he must be tired," agreed the teamster. + +But Jim, sitting silently watching, and the fond Miss Doc, whom nothing +concerning the child escaped, knew better. It was not, however, till +the boys were gone and silence had settled on the house that even Jim +was made aware of the all that the tiny mite of a man was undergoing. +Miss Doc had gone to the kitchen. Jim, Tintoretto, and little +Skeezucks were alone. The little fellow and the pup were standing in +the centre of the floor, intently listening. Together they went to the +door. There little Carson stretched his tiny arms across the panels in +baby appeal. + +"Bruv-ver--Jim," he begged. "Bruv-ver--Jim." + +Then, at last, the gray old miner understood the whole significance of +the baby words. "Bruvver Jim" meant more than just himself; it meant +the three little girls--associates--children--all that is dear to a +childish heart--all that is indispensable to baby happiness--all that a +lonely little heart must have or starve. + +Jim groaned, for the utmost he could do was done when he took the +sobbing little fellow in his arms and murmured him words of comfort as +he carried him up and down the room. + +The day that followed, and the day after that, served only to deepen +the longing in the childish breast. The worried men of Borealis played +on the floor in desperation. They fashioned new wagons, sleds, and +dolls; they exhausted every device their natures prompted; but beyond a +sad little smile and the call for "Bruvver Jim" they received no answer +from the baby heart, + +At the end of a week the little fellow smiled no more, not even in his +faint, sweet way of yearning. His heart was starving; his grave, baby +thought was far away, with the small red caps and the laughing voices +of children. + +The fond Miss Doc and the gray old Jim alone knew what the end must be, +inevitably, unless some change should speedily come to pass. + +Meantime, Keno had quietly opened up a mighty ledge of gold-bearing ore +on the hill. It lay between walls of slate and granite. Its hugeness +was assured. That the camp would boom in the spring was foreordained. +And that ledge all belonged to Jim. But he heard them excitedly tell +what the find would do for him and the camp as one in a dream. He +could not care while his tiny waif was starving in his lonely little +way. + +"Boys," he said at last, one night, when the smith and Bone had called +to see the tiny man, who had sadly gone to sleep--"boys, he's pinin'. +He's goin' to die if he don't have little kids for company. I've made +up my mind. I'm goin' to take him to Fremont right away." + +Miss Doc, who was knitting a tiny pair of mittens and planning a tiny +red cap and woollen leggings, dropped a stitch and lost a shade of +color from her face. + +"Ain't there no other way?" inquired the blacksmith, a poignant regret +already at his heart. "You don't really think he'd up and die?" + +"Children have got to be happy," Jim replied. "If they don't get their +fun when they're little, why, when is it ever goin' to come? I know +he'll die, all alone with us old cusses, and I ain't a-goin' to wait." + +"But the claim is goin' to be a fortune," said Bone. "Couldn't you +hold on jest a week or two and see if he won't get over thinkin' 'bout +the little gals?" + +"If I kept him here and he died, like that--just pinin' away for other +little kids--I couldn't look fortune in the face," answered Jim, to +which, in a moment, he added, slowly, "Boys, he's more to me than all +the claims in Nevada." + +"But--you'll bring him back in the spring, of course?" said the +blacksmith, with a worried look about his eyes. "We'd miss him, Jim, +almost as much as you." + +"By that time," supplemented Bone, "the camp's agoin' to be boomin'. +Probably we'll have lots of wimmen and kids and schools and everything, +fer the gold up yonder is goin' to make Borealis some consid'rable +shakes." + +"I'll bring him back in the spring, all right," said the miner; "but +none of you boys would want to see me keep him here and have him die." + +Miss Doc had been a silent listener to all their conversation. She was +knitting again, with doubled speed. + +"Jim, how you goin'?" she now inquired. + +"I want to get a horse," answered Jim. "We could ride there horseback +quicker than any other way. If only I can get the horse." + +"It may be stormin' in the mornin'," Webber suggested. "A few clouds +is comin' up from the West. What about the horse, Jim, if it starts to +snow?" + +"Riding in a saddle, I can git through," said the miner. "If it snows +at all, it won't storm bad. Storms that come up sudden never last very +long, and it's been good and bright all day. I'll start unless it's +snowin' feather-beds." + +Miss Doc had been feeling, since the subject first was broached, that +something in her heart would snap. But she worked on, her emotions, +yearnings, and fears all rigorously knitted into the tiny mittens. + +"You'll let me wrap him up real warm?" she said. + +Jim knew her thoughts were all on little Skeezucks. + +"If you didn't do it, who would?" he asked, in a kindness of heart that +set her pulse to faster beating. + +"But--s'pose you don't git any job in Fremont," Bone inquired. "Will +you let us know?" + +"I'll git it, don't you fear," said Jim. "I know there ain't no one so +blind as the feller who's always lookin' for a job, but the little kid +has fetched me a sort of second sight." + +"Well, if anything was goin' hard, we'd like for to know," insisted +Bone. "I guess we'd better start along, though, now, if we're goin' to +scare up a bronch to-night." + +He and the blacksmith departed. Jim and the lorn Miss Doc sat silently +together in the warm little house. Jim looked at her quietly, and saw +many phases of womanly beauty in her homely face. + +"Wal," he drawled, at last, "I'll go up home, on the hill." He +hesitated for a moment, and then added, quietly, "Miss Doc, you've been +awful kind to the little boy--and me." + +"It wasn't nuthin'," she said. + +They stood there together, beside the table. + +"Yes, it was," said Jim, "and it's set me to thinkin' a heap." He was +silent for a moment, as before, and then, somewhat shyly for him, he +said, "When we come back home here, in the spring, Miss Doc, I'm +thinkin' the little feller ought to have a mother. Do you think you +could put up with him--and with me?" + +"Jim," she said, in a voice that shook with emotion, "do you think I'm +a kind enough woman?" + +"Too kind--for such as me," said Jim, thickly. He took her hand in his +own, and with something of a courtliness and grace, reminiscent of his +youth, he raised it to his lips. "Good-night," he said. "Good-night, +Miss Doc." + +"Good-night, Jim," she answered, and he saw in her eyes the beauty that +God in his wisdom gives alone to mother-kind. + +And when he had gone she sat there long, forgetting to keep up the +fire, forgetting that Doc himself would come home early in the morning +from his night-employment, forgetting everything personal save the +words old Jim had spoken, as she knitted and knitted, to finish that +tiny pair of mittens. + +The night was spent, and her heart was at once glad and sore when, at +last, she concluded her labor of love. Nevertheless, in the morning +she was up in time to prepare a luncheon for Jim to take along, and to +delve in her trunk for precious wraps and woollens in which to bundle +the grave little pilgrim, long before old Jim or the horse he would +ride had appeared before the house. + +Little Skeezucks was early awake and dressed. A score of times Miss +Doc caught him up in her hungering arms, to hold him in fervor to her +heart and to kiss his baby cheek. If she cried a little, she made it +sound and look like laughter to the child. He patted her face with his +tiny hand, even as he begged for "Bruvver Jim." + +"You're goin' to find Bruvver Jim," she said. "You're goin' away from +fussy old me to where you'll be right happy." + +At least a dozen men of the camp came plodding along behind the horse, +that arrived at the same time Jim, the pup, and Keno appeared at the +Dennihan home. + +Doc Dennihan had cut off his customary period of rest and sleep, to say +good-bye, with the others, to the pilgrims about to depart. + +Jim was dressed about as usual for the ride, save that he wore an extra +pair of trousers beneath his overalls and a great blanket-coat upon his +back. He was hardy, and he looked it, big as he was and solidly +planted in his wrinkled boots. + +The sky, despite Webber's predictions of a storm, was practically free +from clouds, but a breeze was sweeping through the gorge with +increasing strength. It was cold, and the men who stood about in +groups kept their hands in their pockets and their feet on the move for +the sake of the slight degree of warmth thereby afforded. + +As their spokesman, Webber, the blacksmith, took the miner aside. + +"Jim," said he, producing a buckskin bag, which he dropped in the +miner's pocket, "the boys can't do nuthin' fer little Skeezucks when +he's 'way off up to Fremont, so they've chipped in a little and wanted +you to have it in case of need." + +"But, Webber--" started Jim. + +"Ain't no buts," interrupted the smith. "You'll hurt their feelin's if +you go to buttin' and gittin' ornary." + +Wherefore the heavy little bag of coins remained where Webber had +placed it. + +There were sober words of caution and advice, modest requests for a +line now and then, and many an evidence of the hold old Jim had secured +on their hearts before the miner finally received the grave and +carefully bundled little Carson from the arms of Miss Doc and came to +the gate to mount his horse and ride away. + +"Jest buckle this strap around me and the little boy," instructed Jim, +as he gave a wide leather belt to the teamster; "then if I happen for +to need both hands, he won't be able to git a fall." + +The strap was adjusted about the two in the manner suggested. + +"Good scheme," commented Field, and the others agreed that it was. + +Then all the rough and awkward big fellows soberly shook the pretty +little pilgrim's hand in its mitten, and said good-bye to the tiny +chap, who was clinging, as always, to his doll. + +"What you goin' to do with Tinterretter?" inquired the teamster as he +looked at the pup, while Jim, with an active swing, mounted to the +saddle. + +"Take him along," said Jim. "I'll put him in the sack I've got, and +tie him on behind the saddle when he gits too much of runnin' on foot. +He wouldn't like it to be left behind and Skeezucks gone." + +"Guess that's kerrect," agreed the teamster. "He's a bully pup, you +bet." + +Poor Miss Doc remained inside the gate. Her one mad impulse was to run +to Jim, clasp him and the grave little waif in her arms, and beg to be +taken on the horse. But repression had long been her habit of life. +She smiled, and did not even speak, though the eyes of the fond little +pilgrim were turned upon her in baby affection. + +"Well--you'll git there all right," said the blacksmith, voicing the +hope that swelled in his heart. "So long, and let us know how the +little feller makes it with the children." + +"By jinks!--so long," said Keno, striving tremendously to keep down his +rising emotions. "So long. I'll stay by the claim." + +"And give our love to them three little gals," said Bone. "So long." + +One after another they wrung the big, rough hand, and said "So long" in +their easy way. + +"Bye, Miss Doc," said Jim, at the last. "Skeezucks--say good-bye--to +Miss Doc--and all the boys. Say good-bye." + +The little fellow had heard "good-bye" when the three little caps of +red departed. It came as a word that hurt his tiny heart. But, +obediently, he looked about at all his friends. + +"Dood-bye," he said, in baby accents. "Dood-bye." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +IN THE TOILS OF THE BLIZZARD + +Something was tugged and wrenched mighty hard as Jim rode finally +around the hill, and so out of sight of the meagre little camp he +called his home, but resolution was strong within him. Up and up +through the narrow canon, winding tortuously towards the summit, like +the trail of a most prodigious serpent channelled in the snow, the +horse slowly climbed, with Tintoretto, the joyous, busily visiting each +and every portion of the road, behind, before, and at the sides. + +What a world of white it was! The wind had increased, and a few +scattered specks of snow that sped before it seemed trying to muster +the force of a storm, from the sky in which the sun was still shining, +between huge rents and spaces that separated scudding clouds. + +It was not, however, until an hour had gone that the flakes began to +swirl in fitful flurries. By then the travellers were making better +time, and Jim was convinced the blotted sun would soon again assert its +mastery over clouds so abruptly accumulated in the sky. The wind, +however, had veered about. It came directly in their faces, causing +the horse to lower his head and the pup to sniff in displeasure. + +Little Skeezucks, with his back to the slanting fire of small, hard +flakes, nestled in comfort on the big, protecting shoulder, where he +felt secure against all manner of attack. + +For two more hours they rode ahead, while the snow came down somewhat +thicker. + +"It can't last," old Jim said, cheerily, to the child and horse and +pup. "Just a blowout. Too fierce and sudden to hold." + +Yet, when they came to the great level valley beyond the second range +of hills, the biting gale appeared to greet them with a fury pent up +for the purpose. Unobstructed it swept across the desert of snow, +flinging not only the shotlike particles from the sky, but also the +loose, roving drift, as dry as salt, that lay four inches deep upon the +solider snow that floored the plain. And such miles and miles of the +frozen waste were there! The distant mountains looked like huge +windrows of snow wearing away in the rush of the gale. + +Confident still it was only a flurry, Jim rode on. The pup by now was +trailing behind, his tail less high, his fuzzy coat beginning to fill +with snow, his eyes so pelted that he sneezed to keep them clear. + +The air was cold and piercing as it drove upon them. Jim felt his feet +begin to ache in his hard, leather boots. Beneath his clothing the +chill lay thinly against his body, save for the place where little +Carson was strapped to his breast. + +"It can't last," the man insisted. "Never yet saw a blusterin' storm +that didn't blow itself to nothin' in a hurry." + +But a darkness was flung about them with the thicker snow that flew. +Indeed, the flakes were multiplying tremendously. The wind was +becoming a hurricane. With a roar it rushed across the valley. The +world of storm suddenly closed in upon them and narrowed down the +visible circle of desolation. Like hurrying troops of incalculable +units, the dots of frozen stuff went sweeping past in a blinding swarm. + +The thing had become a blizzard. Jim halted his horse, convinced that +wisdom prompted them to turn their backs upon the fury and flee again +to Borealis, to await a calmer day for travelling. A fiercer buffeting +of wind puffed from the west, fiercely toothed with shot of snow. As +if in fear unnamable, a gaunt coyote suddenly appeared scurrying onward +before the hail and snow, and was quickly gone. + +The horse shied violently out of the road. The girth of the saddle was +loosened. With a superhuman effort old Jim remained in his seat, but +he knew he must tighten the cinch. Dismounting, he permitted the horse +to face away from the gale. The pup came gladly to the shelter of the +miner's boots and clambered stiffly up on his leg, for a word of +companionship and comfort. + +"All right," said Jim, giving him a pat on the head when the saddle was +once more secure in its place; "but I reckon we'll turn back homeward, +and I'll walk myself, for a spell, to warm me up. It may let up, and +if it does we can head for Fremont again without much loss of time." + +With the bridle-rein over his shoulder, he led the horse back the way +they had come, his own head low on his breast, to avoid the particles +of snow that searched him out persistently. + +They had not plodded homeward far when the miner presently discovered +they were floundering about in snow-covered brush. He quickly lifted +his head to look about. He could see for a distance of less than +twenty feet in any direction. Mountains, plain--the world of +white--had disappeared in the blinding onrush of snow and wind. A +chaos of driving particles comprised the universe. And by the token of +the brush underfoot they had wandered from the road. There had been no +attempt on the miner's part to follow any tracks they had left on their +westward course, for the gale and drift had obliterated every sign, +almost as soon as the horse's hoofs had ploughed them in the snow. + +Believing that the narrow road across the desolation of the valley lay +to the right, he forged ahead in that direction. Soon they came upon +smoother walking, which he thought was an indication that the road they +sought was underfoot. It was not. He plodded onward for fifteen +minutes, however, before he knew he had made a mistake. + +The storm was, if possible, more furious. The snow flew thicker; it +stung more sharply, and seemed to come from every direction. + +"We'll stand right here behind the horse till it quits," he said. "It +can't keep up a lick like this." + +But turning about, in an effort to face the animal away from the worst +of the blizzard, he kicked a clump of sage brush arched fairly over by +its burden of snow. Instantly a startled rabbit leaped from beneath +the shrub and bounded against the horse's legs, and then away in the +storm. In affright the horse jerked madly backward. The bridle was +broken. It held for a second, then tore away from the animal's head +and fell in a heap in the snow. + +"Whoa, boy!--whoa!" said the miner, in a quiet way, but the horse, in +his terror, snorted at the brush and galloped away, to be lost from +sight on the instant. + +For a moment the miner, with his bundled little burden in his arms, +started in pursuit of the bronco. But even the animal's tracks in the +snow were being already effaced by the sweep of the powdery gale. The +utter futility of searching for anything was harshly thrust upon the +miner's senses. + +They were lost in that valley of snow, cold, and blizzard. + +"We'll have to make a shelter the best we can," he said, "and wait +here, maybe half an hour, till the storm has quit." + +He kicked the snow from a cluster of sagebrush shrubs, and behind this +flimsy barrier presently crouched, with the shivering pup, and with the +silent little foundling in his arms. + +What hours that merciless blizzard raged, no annals of Nevada tell. +What struggles the gray old miner made to find his way homeward before +its wrath, what a fight it was he waged against the elements till night +came on and the worst of the storm had ceased, could never be known in +Borealis. + +But early that night the teamster, Lufkins, was startled by the +neighing of a horse, and when he came to the stable, there was the +half-blinded animal on which old Jim and tiny Skeezucks had ridden away +in the morning--the empty saddle still upon his back. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A BED IN THE SNOW + +The great stout ore-wagons stood in the snow that lay on the Borealis +street, with never a horse or a mule to keep them company. Not an +animal fit to bear a man had been left in the camp. But the twenty men +who rode far off in the white desolation out beyond were losing hope as +they searched and searched in the drifts and mounds that lay so deep +upon the earth. + +By feeble lantern glows at first, and later by the cold, gray light of +dawn, they scanned the road and the country for miles and miles. It +was five o'clock, and six in the morning, and still the scattered +company of men and horses pushed onward through the snow. + +The quest became one of dread. They almost feared to find the little +group. The wind had ceased to blow, but the air was cold. Gray +ribbons of cloud were stretched across the sky. Desolation was +everywhere--in the heavens, on the plain, on the distant mountains. +All the world was snow, dotted only where the mounted men made +insignificant spots against the waste of white. + +Aching with the cold, aching more in their hearts, the men from +Borealis knew a hundred ways to fear the worst. + +Then at last a shout, and a shot from a pistol, sped to the farthest +limits of the line of searching riders and prodded every drop of +sluggish blood within them to a swift activity. + +The shout and signal had come from Webber, the blacksmith, riding a +big, bay mare. Instantly Field, Bone, and Lufkins galloped to where he +was swinging out of his saddle. + +There in the snow, where at last he had floundered down after making an +effort truly heroic to return to Borealis, lay the gray old Jim, with +tiny Skeezucks strapped to his breast and hovered by his motionless +arms. In his hands the little mite of a pilgrim held his furry doll. +On the snow lay the luncheon Miss Doc had so lovingly prepared. And +Tintoretto, the pup, whom nature had made to be joyous and glad, was +prostrate at the miner's feet, with flakes of white all blown through +the hair of his coat. A narrow little track around the two he loved so +well was beaten in the snow, where time after time the worried little +animal had circled and circled about the silent forms, in some brave, +puppy-wise service of watching and guarding, faithfully maintained till +he could move no more. + +For a moment after Bone and Lufkins joined him at the spot, the +blacksmith stood looking at the half-buried three. The whole tale of +struggle with the chill, of toiling onward through the heavy snow, of +falling over hidden shrubs, of battling for their lives, was somehow +revealed to the silent men by the haggard, death-white face of Jim. + +"They can't--be dead," said the smith, in a broken voice. +"He--couldn't, and--us all--his friends." + +But when he knelt and pushed away some of the snow, the others thought +his heart had lost all hope. + +It was Field, however, who thought to feel for a pulse. The eager +searchers from farther away had come to the place. A dozen pair of +eyes or more were focussed on the man as he held his breath and felt +for a sign of life. + +"Alive!--He's alive!" he cried, excitedly. "And little Skeezucks, too! +For God's sake, boys, let's get them back to camp!" + +In a leap of gladness the men let out a mighty cheer. From every +saddle a rolled-up blanket was swiftly cut, and rough but tender hands +swept off the snow that clung to the forms of the miner, the child, and +the pup. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +CLEANING THEIR SLATE + +Never could castle or mansion contain more of gladness and joy of the +heart than was crowded into the modest little home of Miss Doc when at +last the prayers and ministrations of a score of men and the one +"decent" woman of the camp were rewarded by the Father all-pitiful. + +"I'm goin' to bawl, and I'll lick any feller that calls me a baby!" +said the blacksmith, but he laughed and "bawled" together. + +They had saved them all, but a mighty quiet Jim and a quieter little +Skeezucks and a wholly subdued little pup lay helpless still in the +care of the awkward squad of nurses. + +And then a council of citizens got together at the dingy shop of Webber +for a talk. "We mustn't fergit," said the smith, "that Jim was a +takin' the poor little feller to Fremont 'cause he thought he was +pinin' away fer children's company; and I guess Jim knowed. Now, the +question is, what we goin' for to do? Little Skeezucks ain't a goin' +to be no livelier unless he gits that company--and maybe he'll up and +die of loneliness, after all. Do you fellers think we'd ought to git +up a party and take 'em all to Fremont, as soon as they're able to +stand the trip?" + +Bone, the bar-keep answered: "What's the matter with gittin' the +preacher and his wife and three little gals to come back here and +settle in Borealis? I'm goin' in for minin', after a while, myself, +and I'll--and I'll give my saloon from eight to two on Sundays to be +fixed all up fer a church; and I reckon we kin support Parson Stowe as +slick as any town in all Navady." + +For a moment this astonishing speech was followed by absolute silence. +Then, as if with one accord, the men all cheered in admiration. + +"Let's git the parson back right off," cried the carpenter. "I kin +build the finest steeple ever was!" + +"Send a gang to fetch him here to-day!" said Webber. + +"I wouldn't lose no time, or he may git stuck on Fremont, and never +want to budge," added Lufkins. + +Field and half a dozen more concurred. + +"I'll be one to go myself," said the blacksmith, promptly. "Two or +three others can come along, and we'll git him if we have to steal +him--wife, little gals, and all!" + +But the party was yet unformed for the trip when the news of the +council's intentions was spread throughout the camp, and an ugly +feature of the life in the mines was revealed. + +The gambler, Parky, sufficiently recovered from the wound in his arm to +be out of his house, and planning a secret revenge against old Jim and +his friends, was more than merely opposed to the plan which had come +from the shop of Webber. + +"It don't go down," said he to a crowd, with a sneer at the parson and +with oaths for Bone. "I own some Borealis property myself, and don't +you fergit I'll make things too hot for any preacher to settle in the +camp. And I 'ain't yet finished with the gang that thought they was +smart on New-Year's eve--just chew that up with your cud of tobacker!" + +With half a dozen ruffians at his back--the scum of prisons, +gambling-dens, and low resorts--he summed up a menace not to be +estimated lightly. Many citizens feared to incur his wrath; many were +weak, and therefore as likely to gather to his side as not, under the +pressure he could put upon them. + +The camp was suddenly ripe for a struggle. Right and decency, or +lawlessness and violence would speedily conquer. There could be no +half-way measures. If Webber and his following had been persuaded +before that Parson Stowe should have a place in the town, they were +grimly determined on the project now. + +The blacksmith it was who strung up once again a bar of steel before +his shop and rang it with his hammer. + +There were forty men who answered to the summons. And when they had +finished the council of war within the shop, the work of an upward lift +had been accomplished. A supplement was added to the work of signing a +short petition requesting Parson Stowe to come among them, and this +latter took the form of a mandate addressed to the gambler and his +backing of outlaws, thieves, and roughs. It was brief, but the weight +of its words was mighty. + +"The space you're using in Borealis is wanted for decenter purposes," +it read. "We give you twenty-four hours to clear out. Git!--and then +God have mercy on your souls if any one of the gang is found in +Borealis!" + +This was all there was, except for a fearful drawing of a coffin and a +skull. And such an array of inky names, scrawled with obvious pains +and distinctness, was on the paper that argument itself was plainly +hand in hand with a noose of rope. + +Opposition to an army of forty wrathful and determined men would have +been but suicide. Parky nodded when he read the note. He knew the +game was closed. He sold all his interests in the camp for what they +would bring and bought a pair of horses and a carriage. + +In groups and pairs his henchmen--suddenly thrown over by their leader +to hustle for themselves--sneaked away from the town, many of them +leaving immediately in their dread of the grim reign of law now come +upon the camp. Parky, for his part, waited in some deliberation, and +then drove away with a sneer upon his lips when at last his time was +growing uncomfortably short. + +Decency had won--the moral slate of the camp was clean! + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +A DAY OF JOY + +There came a day--never to be forgotten in the annals of +Borealis--when, to the ringing of the bar of steel, Parson Stowe, with +his pretty little wife and the three little red-capped youngsters, rode +once more into town to make their home with their big, rough friends. + +Fifty awkward men of the mines roared lustily with cheering. Fifty +great voices then combined in a sweet, old song that rang through the +snow-clad hills: + + "Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, + Lead Thou me on. + The night is dark, and I am far from home, + Lead Thou me on." + +And the first official acts of the wholesome young parson were +conducted in the "church" that Bone had given to the town when the +happy little Skeezucks was christened "Carson Boone" and the drawling +old Jim and the fond Miss Doc were united as man and wife. + +"If only I'd known what a heart she's got, I'd asked her before," the +miner drawled. "But, boys, it's never too late to pray for sense." + +The moment of it all, however, which the men would remember till the +final call of the trumpet was that in which the three little girls, in +their bright-red caps, came in at the door of the Dennihan home. They +would never forget the look on the face of their motherless, quaint +little waif as he held forth both his tiny arms to the vision and cried +out: + +"Bruvver Jim!" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Bruvver Jim's Baby, by Philip Verrill Mighels + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BRUVVER JIM'S BABY *** + +***** This file should be named 16608.txt or 16608.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/0/16608/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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