CHAPTER V
VISITORS AT THE CABIN
When Jim and his company had disappeared from view up the rock-strewnslope, the men left below remained in a group, to discuss not only themarvellous advent of a genuine youngster in Borealis, but likewise thefitness 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, thereain't but a few of us here into camp which knows the funderments ofmotherhood, 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 ittrickle out and drip."
"Well, we'll watch him, that's all," Field remarked, with a knowingsquint in his eyes, and employing a style he would not have dared toparade in the hearing of Jim. "Borealis has come to her formalineperiod, 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 haveto take the kid away from Jim complete."
"He found the little skeezucks, all the same," the blacksmith remindedthem. "That counts for somethin'. He's got a right to keep him for awhile, 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 fellersmall as him git lost in the brush don't deserve to git him back."
"Mysterious case, sure as lizards is insects," said an individualheretofore 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'sexact antithesis--a scrupulously tidy, exacting lady, so severe in hervirtues and so acrid in denunciations of the lack of down-eastcircumspection that nearly every man in camp shied off from her abodeas he might have shied from a bath in nitric acid. Six months prior tothis time she had come to Borealis from the East, unexpectedly plumpingdown upon her brother "Doc" with all her moral fixity of purpose, notonly to his great distress of mind, but also to that of all hisacquaintances as well. She had raided the ethical standing of miners,teamsters, and men-about-town; she had outwardly and inwardly condemnedthe loose and indecorous practices of the camp; she had made herself anaccusing hand, as it were, pointing out the road to perdition which alland sundry of the citizens of Borealis, including "Doc," weretravelling. If-only Jim had promptly responded to her naturalantipathy to all that he represented, and the strained relationsbetween the pair had furnished much amusement for the male populationof 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 ofthe doings of Jim was widely spread; and the wonder increased till itstretched to the farthest confines of the place. Then as fast as theminers and other laborers, who were busy with work, could get away fora time sufficiently long, they made the pilgrimage up the slope to thecabin where the tiny foundling had domicile. They found the timidlittle man seated, with his doll, on the floor, from which he watchedthem gravely, in his baby way.
Half the honors of receiving the groups and showing off the quaintlittle Skeezucks were assumed by Keno, with a grace that might havebeen easy had he not been obliged to pull down his shirt-sleeves withsuch exasperating frequency.
But Jim was the hero of the hour, as he very well knew. Time aftertime, and ever with thrilling new detail and added incident, herecounted the story of his find, gradually robbing even Tintoretto, thepup, of such of the glory as he really had earned.
The pup, however, was recklessly indifferent. He could pile up freshglories every minute by bowling the little pilgrim on his back andwalking on his chest to lap his ear. This he proceeded to do, in hisclumsy way of being friendly, with a regularity only possible to anenthusiast. And every time he did it anew, either Keno or Jim or avisitor would shy something at him and call him names. This, however,only served to incite him to livelier antics of licking everybody'sface, wagging himself against the furniture, and dragging the variousbombarding missiles between the legs of all the company.
There were men, who apparently had nothing else to do, who returned tothe cabin on the hill with every new visiting deputation. A series ofownership in and familiarity with the grave little chap and his storycame upon them rapidly. Field, the father of Borealis, was the mostassiduous guide the camp afforded. By afternoon he knew more about thechild than even Jim himself.
For his part, the lanky Jim sat on a stool, looking wiser than Solomonand Moses rolled in one, and greeted his wondering acquaintances with acalm and dignity that his oneness in the great event was magnifyinghourly. That such an achievement as finding a lost little pilgrim inthe wilderness might be expected of his genius every day was firmlyimpressed upon himself, if not on all who came.
"Speakin' of catfish, Jim thinks he's hoein' some potatoes." said Fieldto a group of his friends. "If one of us real live spirits of Borealishad 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 eighto'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 comealong, the show is over for the day," instructed Jim, at last. "Theboy is goin' to bed."
"Did he bring a nightie?" said Keno.
"Forgot it, I reckon," answered Jim, as he took the tired little chapin 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 sleepwith all his baby garments on, the long "man's" trousers and all, andJim permitted all to remain in place, for the warmth thereof, he said.Into the bunk went the tiny bundle of humanity, his doll tightly heldto his breast.
Then Jim sat down and watched the bunk, till Keno had come inside andclimbed in a bed and begun a serenade. At twelve o'clock the miner wasstill awake. He went to his door, and, throwing it open, looked out atthe great, dark mountains and the brilliant sky.
"If only I had the steam I'd open up the claim and make the littlefeller rich," he drawled to himself. Then he closed the door, and,removing his clothing, got into the berth where his tiny guest wassleeping, and knew no more till the morning came and a violent knockingon his window prodded his senses into something that answered foractivity.
"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 andentered. Jim and Keno had their heads thrust out of their bunks, butthe two popped in abruptly at the sight of a tall female figure. Shewas homely, a little sharp as to features, and a little near togetherand piercing as to eyes. Her teeth were prominent, her mouthunquestionably generous in dimensions, and a mole grew conspicuouslyupon her chin. Nevertheless, she looked, as Jim had once confessed,"remarkly human." On her head she wore a sun-bonnet. Her black alpacadress was as styleless and as shiny as a stovepipe. It was short,moreover, and therefore permitted a view of a large, flat pair of shoeson which polish for the stovepipe aforesaid had been lavishly coated.
It was Miss Doc Dennihan. Having duly heard of the advent of a quaintlittle boy, found in the brush by the miner, she had come thus early inthe morning to gratify a certain hunger that her nature felt for thesight of a child. But always one of the good woman's prides had beenconcealment of her feelings, desires, and appetites. She had formed ahabit, likewise, of hiding not a few of her intentions. Instead ofinquiring now for what she sought, she glanced swiftly abou
t theinterior 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, whileKeno drew far back in his berth and fortified himself behind hisblankets. "Glad to see you, but sorry you've got to be goin' again sosoon."
"I 'ain't got to be goin'," corrected the visitor, with decision. "Ijest thought I'd call in and see if your clothin' and kitchen truck wasneedin' a woman's hand. Breakfast over to our house is finished andJohn 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 placeis disgraceful dirty, as I could see with nuthin' but a store eye. Isthese here over-halls your'n?"
"When I'm in 'em I reckon they are," drawled Jim, in some disquietudeof mind. "But don't you touch 'em! Them pants is heirlooms. Wouldn'thave anybody fool with them for a million dollars."
"They don't look worth no such a figger," said Miss Dennihan, as sheheld them up and scanned them with a critical eye. "They're wantin' apatch in the knee. It's lucky fer you I toted my bag. I kin alwaysmatch overhalls, new or faded."
Keno slyly ventured to put forth his head, but instantly drew it backagain.
Jim, in his bunk, was beginning to sweat. He held his little foundlingby the hand and piled up a barrier of blankets before them. That manyanother of the male residents of Borealis had been honored by similarvisitations on the part of Miss Doc was quite the opposite ofreassuring. That the lady generally came as a matter of curiosity, andremained in response to a passion for making things glisten withcleanliness, he had heard from a score of her victims. He knew she washere to get her eyes on the grave little chap he was cuddling fromsight, but he had no intention of sharing the tiny pilgrim with any onewhose attentions would, he deemed, afford a trial to the nerves.
"Seems to me the last time I saw old Doc his shirt needed stitchin' inthe sleeve," he said. "How about that, Keno?"
Keno was dumb as a clam.
"You never seen nuthin' of the sort," corrected Miss Doc, withasperity, and, removing her bonnet, she sat down on a stool, Jim'soveralls in hand and her bag in her lap. "John's mended regular, allbut his hair, and if soap-suds and bear's-grease would patch his top hewouldn't be bald another day."
"He ain't exactly bald," drawled the uncomfortable miner. "His hairwas parted down the middle by a stroke of lightnin'. Or maybe youcombed it yourself."
"Don't you try to git comical with me!" she answered. "I didn't comehere for triflin'."
Her back being turned towards the end of the room wherein the redheadedKeno was ensconced, that diffident individual furtively put forth hishand and clutched up his boots and trousers from the floor. The latterhe managed to adjust as he wormed about in the berth. Then silently,stealthily, trembling with excitement, he put out his feet, andsuddenly bolting for the door, with his boots in hand, let out a yelland shot from the house like a demon, the pup at his heels, loudlybarking.
"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'ssaner than I am, plain as day."
"Then it's lucky I came," decided the visitor, vigorously sewing at thetrousers. "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. Whydon'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," repliedMiss 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 seethat child if it took till evening to do so.
"Maybe I can go to sleep again and dream I'm dead," said Jim, ingrowing 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 downon a stool. "Now you kin give me your shirt."
Jim galvanically gathered the blankets in a tightened noose about hisneck.
"Hold on!" he said. "Hold on! This shirt is a bran'-new article, andyou'd spoil it if you come within twenty-five yards of it with aneedle."
"Where's your old one?" she demanded, atilt for something more torepair. Her gaze searched the bunks swiftly, and Jim was sure she waslooking 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 haddeftly reversed it on himself. "It's a poor shirt that won't work bothways."
"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," sheanswered, 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 upand come down easy."
"I wouldn't have you go for nothing," drawled Jim, squirming withabnormal 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. Yougit up and go and git a fresh pail of water."
"I'd like to," Jim said, convincingly, "but the only time I ever brokemy 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-roundexcuses," she conjectured. "You've got the name of bein' thelaziest-jointed, mos' shiftless man into camp."
"Wal," drawled the helpless miner, "a town without a horrible exampleis deader than the spikes in Adam's coffin. And the next best thing tobeing a livin' example is to hang around the house where one of 'emstays in his bunk all mornin'."
"If that's another of them underhanded hints of your'n, you might aswell save your breath," she replied. "I'll go and git the watermyself, fer them dishes is goin' to git cleaned."
She took up the bucket at once. Outside, the sounds of some onescooting rapidly away brought to Jim a thought of Keno's recentlydemonstrated presence of mind.
Cautiously sitting up in the berth, so soon as Miss Doc had disappearedwith the pail, he hurriedly drew on his boots. A sound of returningfootsteps came to his startled ears. He leaped back up in the bunk,boots and all, and covered himself with the blanket, to the startlementof 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 thatsoot-plated article from its hook in the chimney she once more startedfor the spring.
This time, like a guilty burglar, old Jim crept out to the door. Thenwith one quick resolve he caught up his trousers, and snatching hispale little guest from the berth, flung a blanket about them, sneakedswiftly out of the cabin, stole around to its rear, and ran withlong-legged awkwardness down through a shallow ravine to the cover of ahuge heap of bowlders, where he paused to finish his toilet.
"Hoot! Hoot!" sounded furtively from somewhere near. Then Keno cameducking towards him from below, with Tintoretto in his wake, sorampantly glad in his puppy heart that he instantly climbed on thetimid little Skeezucks, sitting for convenience on the earth, andbowled him head over heels.
"Here, pup, you abate yourself," said Jim. "Be solemnly glad and letit go at that." And he took up the gasping little chap, whose dollwas, 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 seton cleanin' up the cabin. I'll bet w
hen she's finished we'll have topan the gravel mighty careful to find even a color of our once happyhome."
"Well, you got away, anyhow," said Keno, consolingly. "You can't haveyour cake and eat it too."
"No, that's the one nasty thing about cake," said Jim. He sat on arock and addressed the wondering little pilgrim, who was watching hisface with baby gravity. "Did she scare the boy?" he asked. "Is hegittin' hungry? Does pardner want some breakfast?"
The little fellow nodded.
"What would little Skeezucks like old brother Jim to make forbreakfast?"
The quaint bit of a man drew a trifle closer to the rough old coat andtimidly 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 andmilk?" he repeated. "Just bread and milk. You poor little shaver!Wal, that's as easy as oyster stew or apple-dumplin'. Baby wantanything 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'dmake him a Noah's ark and a train of cars and a fat mince-pie. Wouldlittle 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 hissleeves with all his strength.
"Say, Keno," said Jim, "go find Miss Doc's goat and milk him for theboy."
"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 thewily Miss Dennihan. It took nearly half an hour of argument to get himup to the brow of the slope. Then, to his uncontainable delight, hebeheld the disgusted and somewhat defeated Miss Doc more than half-waydown the trail to Borealis, and making shoe-tracks with assuringrapidity.
"Hoot! Hoot!" he called, in a cautious utterance. "She's went, andthe cabin looks just the same--from here."
But Jim, when he came there, with his tiny guest upon his arm, lookedlong 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. "Itdoes take some people an awful long time to learn not to meddle withthe divine order of things."
Bruvver Jim's Baby Page 5
