by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER SIXTEEN. THE ANTIDOTE
Three days it stormed with never a break, stormed so that the mendreaded the carrying of water from the spring that became ice-rimmed butnever froze over; that clogged with sodden masses of snow half meltedand sent faint wisps of steam up into the chill air. Cutting wood was anordeal, every armload an achievement. Cash did not even attempt tovisit his trap line, but sat before the fire smoking or staring into theflames, or pottered about the little domestic duties that could not halffill the days.
With melted snow water, a bar of yellow soap, and one leg of an old pairof drawers, he scrubbed on his knees the floor on his side of the deadline, and tried not to notice Lovin Child. He failed only because LovinChild refused to be ignored, but insisted upon occupying the immediateforeground and in helping--much as he had helped Marie pack her suitcase one fateful afternoon not so long before.
When Lovin Child was not permitted to dabble in the pan of soapy water,he revenged himself by bringing Cash's mitten and throwing that in, andcrying "Ee? Ee?" with a shameless delight because it sailed round andround until Cash turned and saw it, and threw it out.
"No, no, no!" Lovin Child admonished himself gravely, and got it andthrew it back again.
Cash did not say anything. Indeed, he hid a grin under his thick,curling beard which he had grown since the first frost as a protectionagainst cold. He picked up the mitten and laid it to dry on the slabmantel, and when he returned, Lovin Child was sitting in the pan,rocking back and forth and crooning "'Ock-a-by! 'Ock-a-by!" with theimpish twinkle in his eyes.
Cash was just picking him out of the pan when Bud came in with a load ofwood. Bud hastily dropped the wood, and without a word Cash handed LovinChild across the dead line, much as he would have handed over a wetpuppy. Without a word Bud took him, but the quirky smile hid at thecorners of his mouth, and under Cash's beard still lurked the grin.
"No, no, no!" Lovin Child kept repeating smugly, all the while Bud wasstripping off his wet clothes and chucking him into the undershirt hewore for a nightgown, and trying a man's size pair of socks on his legs.
"I should say no-no-no! You doggone little rascal, I'd rather herd aflea on a hot plate! I've a plumb good notion to hog-tie yuh for awhile.Can't trust yuh a minute nowhere. Now look what you got to wear whileyour clothes dry!"
"Ee? Ee?" invited Lovin Child, gleefully holding up a muffled littlefoot lost in the depths of Bud's sock.
"Oh, I see, all right! I'll tell the world I see you're a doggonenuisance! Now see if you can keep outa mischief till I get the woodcarried in." Bud set him down on the bunk, gave him a mail-ordercatalogue to look at, and went out again into the storm. When he cameback, Lovin Child was sitting on the hearth with the socks off, and waspicking bits of charcoal from the ashes and crunching them like candy inhis small, white teeth. Cash was hurrying to finish his scrubbing beforethe charcoal gave out, and was keeping an eye on the crunching to seethat Lovin Child did not get a hot ember.
"H'yah! You young imp!" Bud shouted, stubbing his toe as he hurriedforward. "Watcha think you are--a fire-eater, for gosh sake?"
Cash bent his head low--it may have been to hide a chuckle. Bud washaving his hands full with the kid, and he was trying to be sternagainst the handicap of a growing worship of Lovin Child and allhis little ways. Now Lovin Child was all over ashes, and the cleanundershirt was clean no longer, after having much charcoal rubbed intoits texture. Bud was not overstocked with clothes; much traveling hadformed the habit of buying as he needed for immediate use. With LovinChild held firmly under one arm, where he would be sure of him, heemptied his "war-bag" on the bunk and hunted out another shirt
Lovin Child got a bath, that time, because of the ashes he had managedto gather on his feet and his hands and his head. Bud was patient, andLovin Child was delightedly unrepentant--until he was buttoned intoanother shirt of Bud's, and the socks were tied on him.
"Now, doggone yuh, I'm goin' to stake you out, or hobble yuh, or somedarn thing, till I get that wood in!" he thundered, with his eyeslaughing. "You want to freeze? Hey? Now you're goin' to stay right onthis bunk till I get through, because I'm goin' to tie yuh on. You mayholler--but you little son of a gun, you'll stay safe!"
So Bud tied him, with a necktie around his body for a belt, and a strapfastened to that and to a stout nail in the wall over the bunk. AndLovin Child, when he discovered that it was not a new game but instead acheck upon his activities, threw himself on his back and held his breathuntil he was purple, and then screeched with rage.
I don't suppose Bud ever carried in wood so fast in his life. He mightas well have taken his time, for Lovin Child was in one of his fits oftemper, the kind that his grandmother invariably called his father'scussedness coming out in him. He howled for an hour and had both mennearly frantic before he suddenly stopped and began to play with thethings he had scorned before to touch; the things that had made him bowhis back and scream when they were offered to him hopefully.
Bud, his sleeves rolled up, his hair rumpled and the perspirationstanding thick on his forehead, stood over him with his hands on hiships, the picture of perturbed helplessness.
"You doggone little devil!" he breathed, his mind torn between amusementand exasperation. "If you was my own kid, I'd spank yuh! But," he addedwith a little chuckle, "if you was my own kid, I'd tell the world youcome by that temper honestly. Darned if I wouldn't."
Cash, sitting dejected on the side of his own bunk, lifted his head, andafter that his hawklike brows, and stared from the face of Bud tothe face of Lovin Child. For the first time he was struck with theresemblance between the two. The twinkle in the eyes, the quirk ofthe lips, the shape of the forehead and, emphasizing them all, theexpression of having a secret joke, struck him with a kind of shock. Ifit were possible... But, even in the delirium of fever, Bud had neverhinted that he had a child, or a wife even. He had firmly planted inCash's mind the impression that his life had never held any closeties whatsoever. So, lacking the clue, Cash only wondered and did notsuspect.
What most troubled Cash was the fact that he had unwittingly caused allthe trouble for Lovin Child. He should not have tried to scrub the floorwith the kid running loose all over the place. As a slight token of hisresponsibility in the matter, he watched his chance when Bud was busy atthe old cookstove, and tossed a rabbit fur across to Lovin Child to playwith; a risky thing to do, since he did not know what were Lovin Child'slittle peculiarities in the way of receiving strange gifts. But he waslucky. Lovin Child was enraptured with the soft fur and rubbed it overhis baby cheeks and cooed to it and kissed it, and said "Ee? Ee?" toCash, which was reward enough.
There was a strained moment when Bud came over and discovered what itwas he was having so much fun with. Having had three days of experienceby which to judge, he jumped to the conclusion that Lovin Child had beenin mischief again.
"Now what yuh up to, you little scallywag?" he demanded. "How did youget hold of that? Consarn your little hide, Boy..."
"Let the kid have it," Cash muttered gruffly. "I gave it to him." He gotup abruptly and went outside, and came in with wood for the cookstove,and became exceedingly busy, never once looking toward the other end ofthe room, where Bud was sprawled upon his back on the bunk, with LovinChild astride his middle, having a high old time with a wonderful newgame of "bronk riding."
Now and then Bud would stop bucking long enough to slap Lovin Child inthe face with the soft side of the rabbit fur, and Lovin Child wouldsquint his eyes and wrinkle his nose and laugh until he seemed likely tochoke. Then Bud would cry, "Ride 'im, Boy! Ride 'im an' scratch 'im. Goget 'im, cowboy--he's your meat!" and would bounce Lovin Child till hesquealed with glee.
Cash tried to ignore all that. Tried to keep his back to it. But he washuman, and Bud was changed so completely in the last three days thatCash could scarcely credit his eyes and his ears. The old surly scowlwas gone from Bud's face, his eyes held again the twinkle. Cash listenedto the whoops, the baby laughter, the old, rodeo catch-phrases, an
dgrinned while he fried his bacon.
Presently Bud gave a whoop, forgetting the feud in his play. "Lookit,Cash! He's ridin' straight up and whippin' as he rides! He's so-o-mebronk-fighter, buh-lieve me!"
Cash turned and looked, grinned and turned away again--but only to stripthe rind off a fresh-fried slice of bacon the full width of the piece.He came down the room on his own side the dead line, and tossed the rindacross to the bunk.
"Quirt him with that, Boy," he grunted, "and then you can eat it if youwant."