I guess maybe you ain't any more crazy over that Injun smell on yuh, than what I am--and that ain't any at all." He walked a few steps farther before he added grimly, "It'll be some jolt for Cash, doggone his skin.

He'll about bust, I reckon.

But we don't give a darn.

Let him bust if he wants to--half the cabin's mine, anyway." So, talking a few of his thoughts aloud to the baby, that presently went to sleep with its face against his shoulder, Bud tramped steadily through the snow, carrying Lovin Child in his arms.

No remote glimmer of the wonderful thing Fate had done for him seeped into his consciousness, but there was a new, warm glow in his heart--the warmth that came from a child's unquestioning faith in his protecting tenderness..