While he rubbed and rinsed and wrung and hung to dry, he had planned the

details of taking the baby to Alpine and placing it in good hands there

until its parents could be found. It was stolen, he had no doubt at

all. He could picture quite plainly the agony of the parents, and common

humanity imposed upon him the duty of shortening their misery as much

as possible. But one day of the baby's presence he had taken, with

the excuse that it needed immediate warmth and wholesome food. His

conscience did not trouble him over that short delay, for he was honest

enough in his intentions and convinced that he had done the right thing.

Cash had long ago undressed and gone to bed, turning his back to the

warm, fire-lighted room and pulling the blankets up to his ears. He

either slept or pretended to sleep, Bud did not know which. Of the

baby's healthy slumber there was no doubt at all. Bud put on his

overshoes and went outside after more wood, so that there would be no

delay in starting the fire in the morning and having the cabin warm

before the baby woke.

It was snowing fiercely, and the wind was biting cold. Already the

woodpile was drifted under, so that Bud had to go back and light the

lantern and hang it on a nail in the cabin wall before he could make

any headway at shovelling off the heaped snow and getting at the wood

beneath. He worked hard for half an hour, and carried in all the wood

that had been cut. He even piled Cash's end of the hearth high with the

surplus, after his own side was heaped full.

A storm like that meant that plenty of fuel would be needed to keep the

cabin snug and warm, and he was thinking of the baby's comfort now, and

would not be hampered by any grudge.

When he had done everything he could do that would add to the baby's

comfort, he folded the little garments and laid them on a box ready for

morning. Then, moving carefully, he crawled into the bed made warm

by the little body. Lovin Child, half wakened by the movement, gave

a little throaty chuckle, murmured "M'ee," and threw one fat arm over

Bud's neck and left it there.

"Gawd," Bud whispered in a swift passion of longing, "I wish you was my

own kid!" He snuggled Lovin Child close in his arms and held him there,

and stared dim-eyed at the flickering shadows on the wall. What he

thought, what visions filled his vigil, who can say?




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024