ught refuge, Bud caught him and swung him up to his shoulder and
let him grab handfuls of dirt out of the roof.

Lovin Child liked that better than being a bear, and sifted Bud's hair
full of dried mud, and threw the rest on the floor, and frequently cried
"Tell a worl'!" which he had learned from Bud and could say with the
uncanny pertinency of a parrot.

He had signified a desire to have Bud carry him along the wall, where
some lovely lumps of dirt protruded temptingly over a bulging log. Then
he leaned and grabbed with his two fat hands at a particularly big, hard
lump. It came away in his hands and fell plump on the blankets of the
bunk, half blinding Bud with the dust that came with it.

"Hey! You'll have all the chinkin' out of the dang shack, if you let
him keep that lick up, Bud," Cash grumbled, lifting his eyebrows at the
mess.

"Tell a worl'!" Lovin Child retorted over his shoulder, and made another
grab.

This time the thing he held resisted his baby strength. He pulled and he
grunted, he kicked Bud in the chest and grabbed again. Bud was patient,
and let him fuss--though in self-defense he kept his head down and his
eyes away from the expected dust bath.

"Stay with it, Boy; pull the darn roof down, if yuh want. Cash'll get
out and chink 'er up again."

"Yeah. Cash will not," the disapproving one amended the statement
gruffly. "He's trying to get the log outa the wall, Bud."

"Well, let him try, doggone it. Shows he's a stayer. I wouldn't have any
use for him if he didn't have gumption enough to tackle things too big
for him, and you wouldn't either. Stay with 'er, Lovins! Doggone it,
can't yuh git that log outa there nohow? Uh-h! A big old grunt and a big
old heave--uh-h! I'll tell the world in words uh one syllable, he's some
stayer."

"Tell a worl'!" chuckled Lovin Child, and pulled harder at the thing he
wanted.

"Hey! The kid's got hold of a piece of gunny sack or something. You
look out, Bud, or he'll have all that chinkin' out. There's no sense in
lettin' him tear the whole blame shack to pieces, is there?"

"Can if he wants to. It's his shack as much as it's anybody's." Bud
shifted Lovin Child more comfortably on his shoulder and looked up,
squinting his eyes half shut for fear of dirt in them.

"For the love of Mike, kid, what's that you've got? Looks to me like a
piece of buckskin, Cash. Here, you set down a minute, and let Bud take a
peek up there."

"Bud--pik-k?" chirped Lovin Ch