ion: "So we rode in, right cheerful."]

"Poor Maggy, she wipes her eye on her apron, and says she'll start
for our camp at oncet.

"I called the Chinaman aside, confidential. "'You take care of
lady!' I shrieks at him. 'Lady--you take care!' I dunno why it is
you think if you holler loud enough you can make a man understand
anything, but it's a fact.

"My chink bobs his head. 'Take clare laly,' he says.

"'Yaas!' says I. 'I rustley monnellee!'

"He bobs his head again.

"'Lusselleemonellee!' he answers, kind of vacant.

"I sot down. 'Twas clear he didn't have no idee of my
conversation. So we went over it for two hours, me drawin' maps
and wigglin' my fingers, and makin' faces to illustrate a man with
an ax-cut in the small of his back, and a lone widder-woman takin'
care of him, till at last, by bringin' hands, face, and feet all
into the game, with a small hunk of kerfoozled English language
here and there, a light broke on his heathen soul. He near bobbed
his head off.

"'Me makee all lightee for Sclaggsee, you bettee, hellee dammee!'
says he.

"He was that earnest I overlooked the name. 'Good,' says I. 'Now,
Charlie, you cut wood, haul water, and keep things goin' out there
and your fifty is waitin' for you on Tuesday.'

"Maggy did a crow-hop when she found she had to travel with the
chink, but I told her it was O.K., so she got aboard an Injin pony
and off they goes to Pete.

"Well, dear friends and brothers, I sincerely hope you've never had
to raise fifty dollars in a busted camp. The boys done the best
they could, but a can of corn had to stand for fifty cents, and a
pair of pants that would take Tartar Charlie somewheres about the
knees drew a credit of two-fifty. Four iron knives and a busted
coffee-pot stood for a case, and a pair of scissors with one blade
broke half off, and a mouth-organ that only sounded in spots, was
equal to two iron dollars. I got eighteen fifty in cash and the
balance was junk.

"'Well,' says I, 'he's no better'n a road-agent, and I can't help
it, nohow.'

"For all that, I sot in Jim Holt's place of a Tuesday afternoon
feelin' low-spirited when I looked at the heap, when who comes
sailin' in at the door but Tartar Charlie, wearin' a grin that took
two turns and a half around his face.

"'Laly comee!' says he. 'Petee comee!'

"'On what?' says I, ashamed to show surprise to a yaller Chinaman.

"'Joss man fetchee!' says he.

"'Certainly!' says I. '