The Flying U's Last Stand [69]
s'prised, and that Daddy Chip would maybe be cross--Daddy Chip was cross, sometimes. The rell ole cowpuncher lay with his yellow curls pillowed on the bag of doughnuts and the gray blanket wrapped tightly around him, and slept soundly; and his lips were curved in the half smile that came often to his sleeping place and made him look ever so much like his Daddy Chip.
CHAPTER 27. "LOST CHILD"
"Djuh find 'im?" The Old Man had limped down to the big gate and stood there bare headed under the stars, waiting, hoping- -fearing to hear the answer.
"Hasn't he showed up yet?" Chip and the Little Doctor rode out of the gloom and stopped before the gate. Chip did not wait for an answer. One question answered the other and there was no need for more. "I brought Dell home," he said. "She's about all in--and he's just as likely to come back himself as we are to run across him. Silver'll bring him home, all right. He can't be--yuh can't lose a horse. You go up to the house and lie down, Dell. I--the Kid's all right."
His voice held all the tenderness of the lover, and all the protectiveness of the husband and all the agony of a father-- but Chip managed to keep it firm and even for all that. He lifted the Little Doctor bodily from the saddle, held her very close in his arms for a minute, kissed her twice and pushed her gently through the gate.
"You better stay right here," he said authoritatively, "and rest and look after J.G. You can't do any good riding--and you don't want to be gone when he comes." He reached over the gate, got hold of her arm and pulled her towards him. "Buck up, old girl," he whispered, and kissed her lingeringly. "Now's the time to show the stuff you're made of. You needn't worry one minute about that kid. He's the goods, all right. Yuh couldn't lose him if you tried. Go up and go to bed."
"Go to bed!" echoed the Little Doctor and sardonically. J.G., are you sure he didn't say anything about going anywhere?"
"No. He was settin' there on the porch tormenting the cat." The Old Man swallowed a lump. "I told him to quit. He set there a while after that--I was talkin'' to Blake. I dunno where he went to. I was--"
"'S that you, Dell? Did yuh find 'im?" The Countess came flapping down the path in a faded, red kimono. "What under the shinin' sun's went with him, do yuh s'pose? Yuh never know what a day's got up its sleeve--'n I always said it. Man plans and God displans--the poor little tad'll be scairt plumb to death, out all alone in the dark--"
"Oh, for heaven's sake shut up!" cried the tortured Little Doctor, and fled past her up the path as though she had some hope of running away from the tormenting thoughts also. "Poor little tad, all alone in the dark,"--the words followed her and were like sword thrusts through the mother heart of her. Then Chip overtook her, knowing too well the hurt which the Countess had given with her blundering anxiety. Just at the porch he caught up with her, and she clung to him, sobbing wildly.
"You don't want to mind what that old hen says," he told her brusquely. "She's got to do just so much cackling or she'd choke, I reckon. The Kid's all right. Some of the boys have run across him by this time, most likely, and are bringing him in. He'll be good and hungry, and the scare will do him good." He forced himself to speak as though the Kid had merely fallen on the corral fence, or something like that. "You've got to make up your mind to these things," he argued, "if you tackle raising a boy, Dell. Why, I'll bet I ran off and scared my folks into fits fifty times when I was a kid."
"But--he's--just a baby!" sobbed the Little Doctor with her face pressed hard against Chip's strong, comforting shoulder.
"He's a little devil!" amended Chip fiercely. "He ought to be walloped for scaring you like this. He's just as capable of looking after himself as most kids twice his size. He'll get hungry and head for home--and if he don't know the way, Silver does; so he can't--"
"But he may have fallen and--"
"Come, now! Haven't you got any more sense than the Countess?
CHAPTER 27. "LOST CHILD"
"Djuh find 'im?" The Old Man had limped down to the big gate and stood there bare headed under the stars, waiting, hoping- -fearing to hear the answer.
"Hasn't he showed up yet?" Chip and the Little Doctor rode out of the gloom and stopped before the gate. Chip did not wait for an answer. One question answered the other and there was no need for more. "I brought Dell home," he said. "She's about all in--and he's just as likely to come back himself as we are to run across him. Silver'll bring him home, all right. He can't be--yuh can't lose a horse. You go up to the house and lie down, Dell. I--the Kid's all right."
His voice held all the tenderness of the lover, and all the protectiveness of the husband and all the agony of a father-- but Chip managed to keep it firm and even for all that. He lifted the Little Doctor bodily from the saddle, held her very close in his arms for a minute, kissed her twice and pushed her gently through the gate.
"You better stay right here," he said authoritatively, "and rest and look after J.G. You can't do any good riding--and you don't want to be gone when he comes." He reached over the gate, got hold of her arm and pulled her towards him. "Buck up, old girl," he whispered, and kissed her lingeringly. "Now's the time to show the stuff you're made of. You needn't worry one minute about that kid. He's the goods, all right. Yuh couldn't lose him if you tried. Go up and go to bed."
"Go to bed!" echoed the Little Doctor and sardonically. J.G., are you sure he didn't say anything about going anywhere?"
"No. He was settin' there on the porch tormenting the cat." The Old Man swallowed a lump. "I told him to quit. He set there a while after that--I was talkin'' to Blake. I dunno where he went to. I was--"
"'S that you, Dell? Did yuh find 'im?" The Countess came flapping down the path in a faded, red kimono. "What under the shinin' sun's went with him, do yuh s'pose? Yuh never know what a day's got up its sleeve--'n I always said it. Man plans and God displans--the poor little tad'll be scairt plumb to death, out all alone in the dark--"
"Oh, for heaven's sake shut up!" cried the tortured Little Doctor, and fled past her up the path as though she had some hope of running away from the tormenting thoughts also. "Poor little tad, all alone in the dark,"--the words followed her and were like sword thrusts through the mother heart of her. Then Chip overtook her, knowing too well the hurt which the Countess had given with her blundering anxiety. Just at the porch he caught up with her, and she clung to him, sobbing wildly.
"You don't want to mind what that old hen says," he told her brusquely. "She's got to do just so much cackling or she'd choke, I reckon. The Kid's all right. Some of the boys have run across him by this time, most likely, and are bringing him in. He'll be good and hungry, and the scare will do him good." He forced himself to speak as though the Kid had merely fallen on the corral fence, or something like that. "You've got to make up your mind to these things," he argued, "if you tackle raising a boy, Dell. Why, I'll bet I ran off and scared my folks into fits fifty times when I was a kid."
"But--he's--just a baby!" sobbed the Little Doctor with her face pressed hard against Chip's strong, comforting shoulder.
"He's a little devil!" amended Chip fiercely. "He ought to be walloped for scaring you like this. He's just as capable of looking after himself as most kids twice his size. He'll get hungry and head for home--and if he don't know the way, Silver does; so he can't--"
"But he may have fallen and--"
"Come, now! Haven't you got any more sense than the Countess?