"Somebody--wants 'ittle--Nu-thans," he sighed, and his tiny mouth was
smiling when his eyes had closed.
CHAPTER XVIII
WHEN THE PARSON DEPARTED
In the morning the preacher rolled up his sleeves and assisted Jim in
preparing breakfast in the cabin on the hill, where he and Doc, in
addition to Keno and the miner, had spent the night. Doc had departed
at an early hour to take his morning meal at home. Keno was out in the
brush securing additional fuel, the supply of which was low.
"Jim," said Stowe, in the easy way so quickly adopted in the mines,
"how does the camp happen to have this one little child? There seem to
be no families, and that I can understand, for Bullionville is much the
same; but where did you get the pretty little boy?"
"I found him out in the brush, way over to Coyote Valley," Jim replied.
"He was painted up to look like a little Piute, and the Injuns must
have lost him when they went through the valley hunting rabbits."
"Found him--out in the brush?" repeated the preacher. "Was he all
alone?"
"Not quite. He had several dead rabbits for company," Jim drawled in
reply, and he told all that was known, and all that the camp had
conjectured, concerning the finding of the grave little chap, and his
brief and none too happy sojourn in Borealis.
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