"That's bully in you, Amarilly, but I'm agoin' to see this thing through
alone and start in without no help front no one," firmly refused Gus,
and his sturdy little sister could but admire him for his independence.
He locked up his new possession very carefully, putting the key in his
pocket every morning before going to the business precincts to pick up a
job. The children, however, were not dispossessed by this precaution,
finding ingress and egress through the window. Gus most opportunely
secured a week's job driving a delivery-wagon, and he instantly invested
his wages in the provisioning of the cow quarters.
"The feed'll git stale by the time the cow comes," objected Milt.
"Mebby it's fer bait to ketch a critter with," offered Bobby.
After all, it was the miracle predicted by Mrs. Jenkins that came to
pass and delivered the cow. Early one morning, when Gus went as usual
with fond pride to view his sole asset, he found installed therein a
young, corpulent cow, bland and Texas-horned, busily engaged in
partaking of the proceeds of Gus's last week's wages. She turned
inquiring, meditative eyes toward the delighted lad, who promptly locked
the door and rushed into the house to inform the family of the new
arrival.
"She's lost or strayed, but not stolen," said Amarilly.
"Bobby, you put an ad in that paper you deliver at once," commanded Mrs.
Jenkins. "Some poor people air feelin' bad over the loss of their cow."
It was considered only fair that the cow should pay for her meal. She
was overstocked with milk, and graciously and gratefully yielded to
Gus's efforts to relieve her of her load. The children were each given a
taste of the warm milk, and then the little dairyman started right in
for business. The milkman had not yet made his morning rounds, and the
neighbors were so anxious to cross-examine Gus that they were more than
willing to patronize him. Excitement prevailed when it was learned that
the Jenkins family had a cow, and the lad's ingenuity in dodging
questions was severely taxed. He avoided direct replies, but finally
admitted that it was "one they was keepin' fer some folks."
A week went by, with no claim filed for the animal that had come so
mysteriously and seemed so perfectly at home. Gus established a
permanent milk route in the immediate neighborhood, and with his ability
once more to "bring in" came the restoration of his self-respect.
"It's funny we don't git no answer to that ad," mused Mrs. Jenkins
perplexedly. "How many times did you run it, Bobby?"