CHAPTER IX
THE GUILTY MISS DOC
That Keno and Tintoretto should sleep was inevitable, after the waythey 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 thebrush, the miner went on and on, to leave no spot unvisited. He wasout 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, andnaught could be heard save the ringing of the inter-stellar silence asthe 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 startlingthought.
Miss Doc!--Miss Dennihan! She must have stolen his foundling!
Her recent climb to his cabin, her protracted stay, her baffledcuriosity--these were ample explanation for the trick she must haveplayed! How easily she might have watched the place, slipped in themoment the cabin was left unguarded, and carried off the little pilgrim!
Jim knew she would glory in such a revenge. She probably cared not awhit for the child, but to score against himself, for defeating herpurpose when she called, she would doubtless have gone to any possiblelength.
The miner was enraged, but a second later a great gush of thankfulnessand relief surged upward in his heart. At least, the little man wouldnot 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 wasmadness--only a hope! He clung to it tenaciously, however, then gaveit up, only to snatch it back again in desperation as he hastened hometo his cabin.
"Keno, wake up," he cried to his lodger, shaking him briskly by theshoulder. "Keno! Keno!"
"What's the matter? Time for breakfast?" asked Keno, drowsily, riskingonly half an eye with which to look about. "Why not call me gently?"
"Get up!" commanded Jim. "I have thought of where little Skeezucks hasgone!"
"Where?" cried Keno, suddenly aroused. "I'll go and kill the cuss thattook him off!"
"Miss Doc!" replied the miner. "Miss Doc!"
"Miss Doc?" repeated Keno, weakly, pausing in the act of pulling on hisboots. "By jinks! Say, I couldn't kill no woman, Jim. How do youknow?"
"Stands to reason," Jim replied, and explaining his premises rapidlyand clearly, he punched poor Keno into something almost as good asactivity.
"By jinks! I can't believe it," said Keno, who did believe it withfearful thoroughness. "Jim, she wouldn't dare, an' us two fellersliable to bust her house to pieces."
"Don't you know she'd be dead sure to play a trick like that?" saidJim, who could not bear to listen to a doubt. "Don't you see shecouldn't do anything else, bein' a woman?"
"Maybe--maybe," answered Keno, with a sort of acquiescence that isdeadlier than an out-and-out denial. "But--I wouldn't want to see youdisappointed, Jim--I wouldn't want to see it."
"Wal, you come on, that's all," said Jim. "If it ain't so--I want toknow it early in the day!"
"But--what can I do?" still objected Keno. "Wouldn't you rather I'dstay home and git the breakfast?"
"We don't want any breakfast if she 'ain't got the little boy. Youcome on!"
Keno came; so did Tintoretto. The three went down the slope as the sunlooked over the rim of the mountains. The chill and crispness of theair seemed a part of those early rays of light.
In sight of the home of Doc and Miss Dennihan, they paused and steppedbehind a fence, for the door of the neat little house was open and thelady herself was sweeping off the steps, with the briskness inseparablefrom her character.
She presently disappeared, but the door, to Jim's relief, was leftstanding 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, leavingit open, knocked on the door and entered the house. He had hardly morethan 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 Jimlazy-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 someone's taken him off--stole him--that's what they've done, and I'll beta 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 yourdirty little shanty?"
"I want my little boy," said Jim.
"Wal, you git out of my house," commanded Miss Doc. "If John was upyou'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 couldgladly have forgiven. Any excuse would have satisfied hisanger--anything was bearable, save to know that he had come on a falsebelief.
"Miss Doc," he said, "I only want the little kid. Don't say he ain'there."
"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 hadloosed the pup.
Bounding in at the door, that enthusiastic bit of awkwardness and goodintentions jumped on the front of Miss Doc's dress, gave a lick at herhand, scooted back to his master, and wagged himself against thetables, chairs, and walls with clumsy dexterity. Sniffing and bumpinghis nose on the carpet, he pranced through the door to the kitchen.
Almost immediately Jim heard the sound of something being bowled overon the floor--something being licked--something vainly striving withthe over-affectionate pup, and then there came a coo of joy.
"There he is!" cried Jim, and before Miss Doc could lift so much ashand or voice to restrain him, he had followed Tintoretto and fallen onhis knees by the side of his lost little foundling, who was helplesslystraddled by the pup, and who, for the first time, dropped his doll ashe held out his tiny arms to be taken.
"My little boy!" said the miner--"my little boy!" and taking both dolland little man in his arms he held them in passionate tendernessagainst his heart.
"How da'st you come in my kitchen with your dirty boots?" demanded MissDennihan, in all her unabashed pugnacity.
"It's all right, little Skeezucks," said Jim to the timid littlepilgrim, who was clinging to his collar with all the strength of ababy's new confidence and hope. "Did you think old brother Jim waslost? 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 childthan a--"
"Goin' to have him all the same," old Jim interrupted, starting for thedoor. "You stole him--that's what you did!"
"I didn't do no sech thing," said the housewife. "I jest nachellyborrowed him--jest for over night. And now you've got him, I hopeyou'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 bootshas 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 anyfloor of yours."
He therefore left the house at once, even as the lady began her violentsweeping. Interrupting Keno's mad chortles of joy at sight of littleSkeezucks, Jim gave him the tiny man for a moment's keeping, and,taking off his boots,
threw them down before Miss Dennihan's gate inextravagant pride.
Then once more he took his little man on his arm and started away. Butwhen he had walked a half-dozen rods, on the rocks that indented thetender soles of his stockinged feet, he was stepping with gingerlyuncertainty. He presently came to a halt. The ground was not onlylumpy, it was cold.
"I'll tell you what," he slowly drawled, "in this little world there'sabout 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 tomake 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 thereforever!"
"What for?" said Keno.
"Wal," drawled Jim, "a man can't always tell he comes of a proud familyby 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 amoment enjoying the comfort of those soles beneath his feet. For thetime that they halted where they were, he held his rescued little boyto his heart in an ecstasy such as he never had dreamed could be givento a man.
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