"Couldn't you
hold on jest a week or two and see if he won't get over thinkin' 'bout
the little gals?"
"If I kept him here and he died, like that--just pinin' away for other
little kids--I couldn't look fortune in the face," answered Jim, to
which, in a moment, he added, slowly, "Boys, he's more to me than all
the claims in Nevada."
"But--you'll bring him back in the spring, of course?" said the
blacksmith, with a worried look about his eyes. "We'd miss him, Jim,
almost as much as you."
"By that time," supplemented Bone, "the camp's agoin' to be boomin'.
Probably we'll have lots of wimmen and kids and schools and everything,
fer the gold up yonder is goin' to make Borealis some consid'rable
shakes."
"I'll bring him back in the spring, all right," said the miner; "but
none of you boys would want to see me keep him here and have him die."
Miss Doc had been a silent listener to all their conversation. She was
knitting again, with doubled speed.
"Jim, how you goin'?" she now inquired.
"I want to get a horse," answered Jim. "We could ride there horseback
quicker than any other way. If only I can get the horse."
"It may be stormin' in the mornin'," Webber suggested. "A few clouds
is comin' up from the West.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181