It's
comin' on to snow again to-night, and that's too much for Jim."
Bone was not at once discouraged, but in truth he believed, with all
the others, that Jim would no more leave the camp to go forth and
breast the oncoming snow to search the mountains for a shrub than he
would fetch a tree for the Christmas celebration or work good and hard
at his claim.
The bar-keep found no horse. He expected none to be offered, and felt
his labors were wasted. The afternoon was well advanced when he came
again to the home of Miss Doc, where Jim was sitting by the bed whereon
the little wanderer was burning out his life.
"Jim," he said, in his way of bluntness, "there ain't no horse you can
git, but I warned you 'bout the claim, and I don't want to see you lose
it, all fer nothin'."
"He's worse," said Jim, his eyes wildly blazing with love for the
fatherless, motherless little man. "If only I had the resolution,
Bone, I'd go and git that shrub on foot."
"You'd lose yer claim," said Bone.
Miss Doc came out to the door where they stood. She was wringing her
hands.
"Jim," she said, "if you think you kin, anyhow, git that Injun stuff,
why don't you go and git it?"
Jim looked at her fixedly. Not before had he known that she felt the
case to be so nearly hopeless.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145