But could he do it?
He seemed to see his own baby standing wistfully aloof, pushed out of his life that this baby he had no right to keep might have all of his affections, all of his poor estate.

And Marie, whose face was always in the back of his memory, a tearful, accusing vision that would not let him be--he saw Marie working in some office, earning the money to feed and clothe their child.

And Lovin Child romping up and down the cabin, cuddled and scolded and cared for as best an awkward man may care for a baby--a small, innocent usurper.
Bud dropped his face in his palms and tried to think the thing out coldly, clearly, as Cash had stated his own case.

Cash did not know where his own child was, and he did not seem to care greatly.

He was glad to salve his conscience with a small bequest, keeping the bulk--if so tenuous a thing as Cash's fortune may be said to have bulk--for this baby they two were hiding away from its lawful parents.