It was only the next day that Bud was the means of helping Lovin Child

find a fortune for himself; which eased Bud's mind considerably, and

balanced better his half of the responsibility. Cutting out the dramatic

frills, then, this is what happened to Lovin Child and Bud: They were romping around the cabin, like two puppies that had a surplus

of energy to work off. Part of the time Lovin Child was a bear, chasing

Bud up and down the dead line, which was getting pretty well worn out

in places. After that, Bud was a bear and chased Lovin. And when Lovin

Child got so tickled he was perfectly helpless in the corner where he

had sought refuge, Bud caught him and swung him up to his shoulder and

let him grab handfuls of dirt out of the roof.

Lovin Child liked that better than being a bear, and sifted Bud's hair

full of dried mud, and threw the rest on the floor, and frequently cried

"Tell a worl'!" which he had learned from Bud and could say with the

uncanny pertinency of a parrot.

He had signified a desire to have Bud carry him along the wall, where

some lovely lumps of dirt protruded temptingly over a bulging log. Then

he leaned and grabbed with his two fat hands at a particularly big, hard

lump. It came away in his hands and fell plump on the blankets of the

bunk, half blinding Bud with the dust that came with it.

"Hey! You'll have all the chinkin' out of the dang shack, if you let

him keep that lick up, Bud," Cash grumbled, lifting his eyebrows at the

mess.

"Tell a worl'!" Lovin Child retorted over his shoulder, and made another

grab.

This time the thing he held resisted his baby strength. He pulled and he

grunted, he kicked Bud in the chest and grabbed again. Bud was patient,

and let him fuss--though in self-defense he kept his head down and his

eyes away from the expected dust bath.

"Stay with it, Boy; pull the darn roof down, if yuh want. Cash'll get

out and chink 'er up again."

"Yeah. Cash will not," the disapproving one amended the statement

gruffly. "He's trying to get the log outa the wall, Bud."

"Well, let him try, doggone it. Shows he's a stayer. I wouldn't have any

use for him if he didn't have gumption enough to tackle things too big

for him, and you wouldn't either. Stay with 'er, Lovins! Doggone it,

can't yuh git that log outa there nohow? Uh-h! A big old grunt and a big

old heave--uh-h! I'll tell the world in words uh one syllable, he's some

stayer."

"Tell a worl'!" chuckled Lovin Child, and pulled harder at the thing he

wanted.




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