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With a shower of gravel, scattered by the sliding feet of his hastily-reined pony, the man drew up in front of the group. "Mr. Henry Merkel here?" he asked, crisply. "Here," said Bud's father, quietly. "Got a telegraph message for you. It's from La Nogalique!" "La Nogalique!" murmured Mr. Merkel. "Oh, I hope Rosemary " With a rapid motion Mr. Merkel tore open the yellow envelope.
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.
He purposely avoided more than casual mention of Bud's invention, because he had found a chance to bring the other down from the heights where he had been sailing, and Bud now knew that he had made his bright discovery "a mile too late," as he himself expressed it, looking exceedingly downcast at the time.
He turned and lifted the latch of the screen door. "You sure made a good job of it," he grinned. "I'll go an' pour this into Bud 'fore he loses his boots!" He did so, and saved Bud's boots and half a night's sleep besides.
The credit was Bud's. He knew it. And, with frank honesty, was only too ready to admit it, and even advertise it. Elvine nodded. Her dark eyes were warmly returning his smile. "I like that," she said simply. And she meant it. The blood mounted to the man's brow. He felt that he had forced her to make the admission, and regarded his act with some shame.
But, bo" and here the Spider laid an impressive hand on Ravenslee's arm "if you should happen t' see Bud, well, don't stop to look twice but beat it let it be th' door or winder for yours only beat it!" "Oh, why?" "Well, I know Bud's got it in fer you; I heard him say oh, well, if his gun should go off accidental-like, this place ain't exactly Broadway or Fifth Av'noo, bo see?"
They ain't locked in, but Bud's got two revolvers, and he says they can only escape over his dead body." Tinkletown's Convulsion Anderson Crow was himself once more. He was twenty years younger than when he went to bed the night before. His joy and pride had reached the bursting point dignity alone prevented the catastrophe. "What do you expect to do with the gang, Mr.
"Don't don't let us keep you from washing it," and Bud's face flushed with excitement. "We, too, would like to see how it pans out, wouldn't we Thure?" "You bet!" was Thure's emphatic rejoinder. "I hope we bring you good luck, Dick. Now, let's see how you do it." "All right. I sure need some good luck.
Now Rick's out of the way, I s'pose I'll be next. They're tryin' their best to make me quit, but when they find out that won't work, I reckon they'll try somethin' worse." "Why don't Lynch just up an' fire you?" Buck asked curiously. "He's foreman." Bud's young jaw tightened stubbornly. "He can't get nothin' on me," he stated. "It's this way.
"Yi-yipee!" It was Bud's voice, and Ted breathed a prayer of thankfulness. "I'll give it to you, anyhow," muttered the man, and again the knife went up in the air. But it did not make a strike, for at that moment Bud bounded into the room, and, taking in the situation with a lightning glance, his foot flew out, and the toe of his heavy boot struck the man on top of Ted fairly in the ribs.
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