air of getting them all in proper order
once again she let them go and joined in the general outbreak of
amusement.

There were games of hide-and-seek, in which the four happy children and
the men all joined with equal irresponsibility, and games of
blind-man's-buff, that threatened the breaking to pieces of the house.
Through it all, old Jim and the preacher, Mrs. Stowe and Miss Doc were
becoming more and more friendly.

At last the day and the evening, too, were gone. The tired youngsters,
all but little Skeezucks, fell asleep, and were tucked into bed. Even
the pup was exhausted. Field and the blacksmith, Lufkins, Bone, Keno,
and the others thought eagerly of the morrow, which would come so soon,
and go so swiftly, and leave them with no little trio of girls romping
with their finally joyous bit of a boy.

When at length they were ready to say good-night to tiny Carson, he was
sitting again on the knee of the gray old miner. To every one he gave
a sweet little smile, as they took his soft, baby hand for a shake.

And when they were gone, and sleep was coming to hover him softly in
her wings, he held out both his little arms in a gesture of longing
that seemed to embrace the three red caps and all this happier world he
began to understand.

"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
con