wild to leave, however, so
J.G. had to drive him in the next day. He went off without a word to
any of us, and he looked so utterly dejected and so--so _old_. Claude
says he acted perfectly awful in camp, but I'm sure he was sorry for
it afterwards. J.G. hasn't got over it yet; I believe he has taken it
to heart as much as Patsy seemed to do. He's had Patsy with him for so
long, you see--he was like one of the family." She stopped and
regarded the Happy Family a bit anxiously. "This new cook is a very
nice little man," she added after a minute, "but after all, he isn't
Patsy."

The Happy Family did not answer, and they refrained from looking at
one another or at the Little Doctor.

At last Big Medicine brought his big voice into the awkward silence.
"Honest to grandma, Mrs. Chip," he said earnestly, "I'd give a lot
right now to have old Patsy back--er--just to have _around_, if it
made him feel bad to leave. I reckon maybe that was my fault: I hadn't
oughta pitched quite so hard, and I had oughta looked where I was
throwin' m' rider. I reelize that no cook likes to have a fellow
standin' on his head in a big pan uh bread-sponge, on general
principles if not on account uh the bread. Uh course, we've all knowed
old Patsy to take just about as great liberties himself with his
sponge--but we've got to recollect that it was _his_ dough, by cripes,
and that pipe ashes ain't the same as a fellow takin' a shampoo in the
pan. No, I reelize that I done wrong, and I'm willin' to apologize for
it right here and now. At the same time," he ended dryly, "I will own
that I'm dead stuck on little Jakie, and I'd ruther ride for the
Flying U and eat Jakie's grub than any other fate I can think of right
now. Whilst I'm sorry for what I done, yuh couldn't pry me loose from
Jakie with a stick uh dynamite--and that's a fact, Mrs. Chip."

The Little Doctor laughed, pushed back her hair in the way she had,
glanced again at the unresponsive faces of the original members of the
Happy Family and gave up as gracefully as possible.

"Oh, of course Patsy's an old crank, and Jakie's a waxed angel," she
surrendered with a little grimace. "You think so now, but that's
because you are being led astray by your appetites, like all men. You
just wait: You'll be _homesick_ for a sight of that fat, bald-headed,
cranky old Patsy bouncing along on the mess-wagon and swearing in
Dutch at his horses, before you're through. If you're not so
completely gone ov