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"I've got to go," he said almost doggedly. "But I hate the thought of leaving you, An-ina. If Marcel would only get around now, I'd feel easy. But there's not a sign of him. He's late late and Psha! It's no sort of use. I must pull out right away." He stood up from the counter and came over to the stove. An-ina's dark eyes watched him.
"But An-ina sezes ther' is." "An-ina's a squaw." "'Ess." "Well, after long time this funny little fellow finds his new Auntie, and he loves his little cousin right away, and he has such a bully time with her. They play together. Such games.
But through all, above all, floated the spirit of Keeko, and he knew that whatever might have befallen nothing would have made him act differently. He was troubled to realize that for the first time in his life Uncle Steve and An-ina had only second place in his thought. His reflections were broken by An-ina's quiet return. "Supper him all fixed. Marcel come?" Marcel started up.
His trouble was lifted as though by some strong hand. This mother woman never failed in her comfort even in the simple fact of her presence. With his thought still filled with the white beauty of Keeko, the soft copper of An-ina's skin, the smiling gentleness of her dark eyes were things at all times to soften the roughness of Marcel's mood. "Marcel come back? The ice all hold? Oh, yes.
The boys are with me back there. They're feeling good and fit, and we've Where's Marcel?" An-ina's eyes were shining with the joy of a triumph no less than the man's. It was the greatest moment of her life. Had not her idol proved himself even beyond her dreams? Her gladness only deepened at his sharp question. She had her great story to tell. The story which no woman's heart can resist.
Then there were other vessels, set ready to hand beside the food, and he conjectured their contents to be the necessary brew of the famous drug. An-ina's voice broke in upon his reflections. "Him all much sleep," she said. "No wake now. Bimeby. Oh, yes." She spoke in her ordinary tone. She had no fear of waking these "dead" creatures.
He secured the door behind him. Absorbed in thought, his eyes unsmiling, he was making his way back to the main building. It was not until he had almost reached the door that he became aware of An-ina's presence. It was her voice that caused him to look up. "Look," she cried in her soft tones, and pointed. Steve followed the direction of her lean brown finger.
Steve had no thought of blame in his mind. And An-ina? An-ina's complete happiness lay in the fact of her boy's return. "Say, Uncle," Marcel cried in conclusion, with impulsive vehemence. "It's been one hell of a trip. It certainly has. And I'd say a feller don't know one haf the deviltry of this forsaken country till he's hit it haf thawed." "No."
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