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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1abf9ba --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51942 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51942) diff --git a/old/51942-0.txt b/old/51942-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 736b349..0000000 --- a/old/51942-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1960 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Godfathers, by Peter B. Kyne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Three Godfathers - -Author: Peter B. Kyne - -Illustrator: Dean Cornwell - -Release Date: May 2, 2016 [EBook #51942] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE GODFATHERS *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -THE THREE GODFATHERS - -By Peter B. Kyne - -Illustrated By Dean Cornwell - -Cosmopolitan Book Corporation, New York - -1913 - - -_Is the story of The Three Bad Men---not The Three Wise Men “What's a -godfather, Bill?” The Youngest Bad Man inquired. “What job does he hold -down?”_ - -_“You're an awful ignorant young man, Bob,” replied The Wounded Bad Man -reproachfully. “A godfather is a sort of reserve parent who promises to -renounce the devil with all his works an' pomps.”_ - -_The Youngest Bad Man smiled wanly. “Well, Bill, all I got to say is that -us three're a lovely bunch o' godfathers.”_ - - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0008] - -[Illustration: 0009] - - - - - -THE THREE GODFATHERS - - -THE daylight raid on the Wickenburg National Bank had not been a -success. It had been well planned, boldly and cleverly executed, and -the four bandits had gathered unto themselves quite a fortune in -paper money; the job had been singularly free from fuss and feathers. -Nevertheless, as has already been stated, the raid was not a success. -The assistant cashier, returning from luncheon, had, from a distance -of half a block, observed two strangers in town. Both strangers were -mounted and stood on guard in front of the Wickenburg National. In an -alley just back of the bank two saddle horses were standing; and as -the assistant cashier paused, irresolute, two men came out of the bank, -mounted the two horses waiting in the alley, and, followed by the -men who had been standing on watch in front of the bank, rode out of -Wickenburg in rather a suspicious hurry. The assistant cashier had an -inspiration. - -“Thieves! Robbers! Stop 'em!” he yelled. - -His hue and cry aroused to action an apparently inoffensive and elderly -citizen who was taking his siesta in front of The Three Deuces saloon. -Now this man in front of The Three Deuces was not the sheriff. He was -not even the city marshal. Rather he inclined one to the belief that -he might be a minister of the gospel--a soul-trapper on guard at the -portals of The Three Deuces, within which, judging by the subdued rattle -of poker chips, ivory balls and an occasional hoarse shout of “Keno!” - one could be reasonably certain of a plethora of brands ripe for the -burning. The aged citizen asleep in the chair outside was arrayed in -somber black, with a turn-down collar and white lawn tie, a “biled” - shirt with a ruby stud in it, and patriarchial white whiskers. But his -coat, of a clerical cut, effectually concealed two pieces of artillery -of a style and caliber popularized by time and tradition in the fair -state of Arizona. - -The four galloping horsemen were abreast The Three Deuces when the cry -of “Robbers!” aroused all Wickenburg. It awoke the man in the chair; and -he came to his feet with the suddenness of a ferocious old dog, filled -both hands and cut loose at one of the four horsemen. There was a -reason for this. The elderly citizen had a deposit of three dollars and -seventeen cents in the Wickenburg National. Also he possessed a fair -proportion of civic pride, and the horseman upon whom he trained his -hardware was carrying a gunny-sack containing a pro rata of the said -elderly citizen's three-seventeen. - -Four Bad Men had ridden into Wickenburg that December afternoon, but -only three rode out. One of the three had a bullet hole through his left -shoulder. The man who stayed lay, thoroughly and effectually defunct, on -top of a bulging gunny-sack in front of The Three Deuces. Came -presently the paying teller of the Wickenburg National and removed -the gunny-sack. Came half an hour later the coroner of Wickenburg and -removed the body. As for the elderly citizen of deceptive appearance, he -walked uptown to a hardware store, replenished his supply of ammunition -and returned to The Three Deuces in a highly cheerful frame of mind. -Here let us leave him, for with this story he has nothing further to do. -From now on our interest must center on The Three Bad Men who rode out -of Wickenburg headed for the California line--which happens to be the -Colorado River. - -They made their first halt at Granite Tanks, twenty-five miles from -Wickenburg. Here they watered their horses and then pressed onward -toward the river. At the river they found a boat, thoughtfully provided -for just such an emergency as the present. - -Darkness had already settled over the land when The Three Bad Men came -to the Colorado River. It would have been wise on their part to have -waited until the rising of the moon, but our story does not deal with -The Three Wise Men. Within the hour a posse might appear, and, moreover, -The Three Bad Men were of that breed that prefers to “take a chance.” - They rode their jaded horses into the flood until the yellow waters -lapped their bellies; then they shot them and shoved the carcasses off -into the current. - -An hour later The Three Bad Men landed on the California side near -Bill Williams Mountain, filled their boat with stones and sank it, and -shouldering a supply of food and water sufficient to last them four -days, headed up a long box canon that led north to the Colorado Desert. -They made fair time after the moon came up. All night long they trudged -through the box canon, and at daylight it opened out into the waste. - -“Well, boys, I guess we're safe.” remarked The Worst Bad Man, who was -the leader of the trio. “It's cooler in the canon, so suppose we camp -here. I feel like breakfast and some sleep. How's your shoulder, Bill?” - -The Wounded Bad Man shrugged the wounded member disdainfully. - -“High up. Missed the bone and don't amount to much, Tom. But I've bled -like a stuck pig and it's weakened me a little.” - -“I'll heat some water and wash it up, Bill,” said The Youngest Bad Man, -much concerned. - -They made a very small fire of cat-claw and ironwood, brewed a pot of -coffee, breakfasted, washed and dressed The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder -and slept until late afternoon. They awoke much refreshed, ate an early -supper and struck out across the desert to the north, where in time they -would come to the Santa Fe tracks. There were lonely stations out there -in the sands--they might be worth investigation. Then on to the new -mining camp at Old Woman Mountain--a camp which, following the whimsical -and fantastic system of desert nomenclature, which seems to trend toward -such names as Mecca, Cadiz. Bagdad, Bengal and Siam, had had bestowed -upon it the not inappropriate name of New Jerusalem. - -For a number of reasons The Three Bad Men preferred to travel by night. -Primarily they were prowlers and preferred it. Secondly, although one -may encounter torrid weather by day on the Colorado Desert even in -December, the nights, on the contrary, are bitterly cold--and The Three -Bad Men had no blankets. Also there was this advantage about traveling -at night and sleeping in the shadow of a rock by day: they would not -meet other wanderers and there would he no embarrassing questions to -answer respecting the hole in The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder. - -Consequently The Three Bad Men traveled by night. From Mojave Tanks -they swung west to avoid the mining operations there, although more than -once they glanced back wistfully at the little cluster of yellow lights -shining across the sands. The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder was in a bad -way and needed medical attention. Also they needed water; but they were -desert-bred and could last until they came to Malapai Springs. - -So they turned their backs on Mojave Tanks and tramped onward. Now they -were in the ghostly moonlight of the open desert, with the outlines -of the mountain ranges on each side looming dim and shadowy fifteen or -twenty miles away; now they were picking their way carefully through -clusters of murderous catclaw, through tangles of mesquit and ironwood. -Up dark, lonely arroyos they went; down long alleys between the -outstretched arms of the ocatillas with their pendulous, blood-red -blossoms, passing dried, withered Joshua trees twisted into fantastic -shapes as if their fearful surroundings had caused them to writhe in -horror; through solitude and desolation so vast and profound as to -inspire one with the thought that the Creator, appalled at the magnitude -of this abortion of Nature, had set it apart as an eternal heritage of -the damned. - -In the forenoon of the fifth day they came to Malapai Springs. Here The -Three Bad Men drank deeply, bathed, filled their canteens and stepped -blithely out for Terrapin Tanks, the next water-hole--a little-known -and consequently unfrequented spot--where they could rest for a few -days before attempting the last desperate leg of their journey to the -railroad. - -“Don't stint yourself on the water. Bill,” The Worst Bad Man advised as -they departed from Malapai Springs. “There's always water at Terrapin -Tanks.” Nevertheless, with the instinct of the desert-bred, The Worst -Bad Man and The Youngest Bad Man were sparing with the water themselves, -although careful to conceal this fact from The Wounded Bad Man. The -latter's shoulder was swollen and inflamed, and it was a relief to him -if the bandages were kept wet. - -The Worst Bad Man, who knew the country better than his companions, had -timed their arrival at Terrapin Tanks almost to the hour. The sun was -just coming up over the low red hummocks of hematite to the eastward -when The Three Bad Men plodded wearily up a long, dry canon, turned a -sharp, rocky promontory into an arroyo--and paused. - -Borne on the slight desert breeze a sound came to them from up the -arroyo. It was a mournful, wailing cry and ended in a sob--a sound that -bespoke pain and fear and misery. - -The Three Bad Men looked at one another. Each held up an index finger, -enjoining silence. A second, a third time the sound was repeated. - -“It's a human voice,” announced The Worst Bad Man, “an' there's death in -it. Wait here. I'm goin' in to see what's up.” - -When he had gone The Youngest Bad Man, after the restless and -inquisitive manner of youth, climbed a tall rock and gazed up the -arroyo. - -“I see the top of a covered wagon,” he announced. - -“Then,” said The Wounded Bad Man, “It's a tenderfoot outfit, an' that's -a woman cryin'. No desert rat'd come here with a wagon. Fools drive in -where burros fear to tread. Bob. They're tenderfeet.” - -“That's right,” agreed The Youngest Bad Man. “Some nester come in over -the trail from Imperial Valley and bound for New Jerusalem, I'll bet a -new hat.” - -“Whoever's doin' that whimperin' is sure bound for New Jerusalem,” The -Wounded Bad Man replied with a grim attempt at humor. “An' if I don't -let a doctor look at this shoulder o' mine before long I'll head that -way myself.” - -The Worst Bad Man was gone about ten minutes. Presently the others -saw him returning. On his hard, sunscorched face deep concern showed -plainly, and as he trotted down the arroyo he scratched his unkempt head -as if in search of an idea of sufficient magnitude to cope with a grave -situation. When he reached his comrades he sat down on a chunk of black -lava and fanned himself with his hat. - -“There's a fine old state of affairs at the Tanks,” he said huskily. - -“They ain't dry, are they?” Fright showed in the wide blue eyes of The -Youngest Bad Man. The Wounded Bad Man sat down very suddenly and gulped. -The Worst Bad Man replied to the question. - -“Worse'n that.” - -The Wounded Bad Man sighed. “It can't be,” he said. - -“There's a wagon at the Tanks,” continued The Worst Bad Man, “but no -horses. It's a tenderfoot outfit--a man an' his woman--an' they come in -from Salton, via Canon Springs and Boulder, headed for New Jerusalem. -Some o' their kin has started a boardin' tent in the new camp an' these -two misfortunates were aimin' to go in with the rush an' clean up a -stake. They make Terrapin Tanks all right, but the water's a little low -an' the man ain't got sense enough to dig out the sand an' let the water -run in. He's one of these nervous city fellers, I guess, and it just -naturally hurts him to set down an' wait till that sump-hole fills up. -Besides, he don't take kindly to usin' a shovel, so he sticks in a shot -o' dynamite to clean out th' tanks an' start the water runnin'----” - -The Wounded Bad Man sprang to his feet, cursing horribly. - -“The damned, crazy fool!” he raved. “I'll kill him, I will. I'll kill -him just as sure as I'm thirsty.” - -The Worst Bad Man paid no attention to the other's outburst. - -“So he stuck in his stick o' dynamite an' it's only a fool's luck he -didn't blow himself up doin' it. I wisht he had; but he didn't. He just -put Terrapin Tanks out o' business forever--cracked the granite floor o' -that sump-hole an' busted down the sides, an' the water's run out -into the sand an' the tanks run dry. They'll stay dry. We can have -cloudbursts in this country from now until I get religion, but them -tanks'll never hold another drop o' water. That fool tenderfoot's dead, -I guess; but he's goin' to keep right on killin' people just the same. -Men'll keep comin' here, bankin' on water--an' in five years there'll be -a dozen skeletons round that busted tank.” - -“But all that ain't what's bitin' me half as hard as what he went an' -done next. He went an' let his stock nose round an' lick up that alkali -slop below the Tanks, an' drove 'em _loco_. They took off up the canon, -huntin' water, with Mr. Man after 'em. That was four days ago an' he -ain't come back yet; so we don't need to waste no time speculatin' on -his case an' feelin' sorry for him. It wouldn't 'a been so bad, but he -went an' left his woman alone at th' Tanks. She had a little water left, -so she wasn't so bad off until yesterday, when it give out. It's been -pretty hard on her all alone there--an' she's a nice little woman too. -About twenty, I guess, an' heaps too good for the cuss she married. But -still that ain't the worst--not by a long shot. She's goin' to have a -papoose.” - -“_What!_” - -“The Youngest Bad Man and The Wounded Bad Man voiced the horrified -exclamation in unison; then The Wounded Bad Man sank back against a -rock. - -“Yes,” The Worst Bad Man affirmed huskily, “there's a baby due right -soon, I reckon. She's in a pretty bad fix. I was never married, boys, -an' I don't know what to do for her--an' she's cryin', an' prayin', and -askin' for help, an'--I--don't know----” - -The Worst Bad Man choked and hid his hard face in his hands. He shook -like a hooked fish. Silence, while The Worst Bad Man fought for control -of himself. - -“I'm a tough old bird,” he said presently--“I'm an awful tough old bird; -but I can't go back there alone. You've got to come with me, lads. We -got to do someth'n' for her.” - -He turned hopefully to The Wounded Bad Man. - -“Bill,” he said pleadingly, “you ought to know somethin' about such -cases. You do, don't you Bill? Wasn't you married to a half-breed girl -down on the Rio Colorado somewheres, an' didn't she have kids for you?” - -The Wounded Bad Man was on the defensive instantly. - -“Yes, that's true,” he admitted with some, show of reluctance, “but -then, Tom, you know as well as me that Injuns is different. They ain't -_human_, an' this here's a white woman----” - -“That's right.” The Youngest Bad Man out of the wisdom of his twenty-two -summers hastened to Bill's assistance. “An' child-bearin' with a white -woman means doctors an' nurses an' feather beds an' what-all.” - -The Wounded Bad Man flashed the youth a grateful glance. - -“You bet that's right, Bob. An' besides, when that woman o' mine had -them two twins I was doin' a five year stretch in Yuma--so you can see -I don't know nothin' about it. All I know is what I've heard. She didn't -even call a neighbor's woman--just brings them twins into the world one -day, an' gets out an' hustles a livin' for 'em the next.” - -“Well,” retorted the bedeviled Worst Bad Man, “I wasn't tryin' to pass -the buck. Just a-ruminatin' around for information.” He rose wearily. -“Come on,” he growled, and led the way. - -The Three Bad Men walked up the draw to Terrapin Tanks. In reverential -awe they stood beside the covered wagon, parted the side curtains and -looked in. - -On a straw tick, covered with blankets, lay a woman. She was young, with -great brown eyes alight with fever and with the luster of approaching -motherhood. A long braid of brown hair lay across her white breast; she -moaned in her pain and terror and wretchedness. - -The Wounded Bad Man found a tin cup and gave her generously of his all -too scant supply of water. The Youngest Bad Man got a clean towel out -of the tail-box, wet it and washed her burning face and hands. The Worst -Bad Man, whose courage, for all his deviltry, had its limitations, went -and sat down on the tongue of the wagon and tried to think. But scourged -with the horror of this most terrible of human travail, he fled up the -arroyo out of hearing. On the top of one of the little black volcanic -hills, from which eminence he could look down on the wagon, he stood, -active, alert, like a mountain sheep on guard, and beckoned to his -friends to join him. The Youngest Bad Man obeyed his frantic signals, -but The Wounded Bad Man stayed at the wagon. - -“You've got to be easy on me, son, at a time like this,” said The Worst -Bad Man humbly. “I'm an awful tough old bird, but I can't stand that. It -ain't no place for the likes o' me. What's to be done?” - -“Nothin' much, I guess.” The Youngest Bad Man threw out his hands in -desperation. “Bill says she ain't got a chance.” - -He took his canteen in both hands and shook it gently; seeing which The -Worst Bad Man did the same with his. - -“How much has Bill got left?” he asked anxiously. - -“Nary drop. He's been right feverish along o' that hole in his wing, an' -hittin' his canteen heavy, expectin' to find water in the Tanks.” - -“Well, we got about two gallons left,” announced The Worst Bad Man -philosophically, “but I see us cuttin' niggerhead cactus before we hit -another tank. Once in San Berdoo I heard a sky-pilot preachin', an' -he 'lowed that the way o' the transgressor's bound to be hard; but I'm -dogged if I looked for anythin' half as hard as this. Bill's callin' -you, son. Better lope back to the wagon. I'll--I--guess I'll wait here.” - -He waited half an hour, watching with anxious and paternal eyes the -activities of his fellows at the wagon. Once the sounds of woe drifted -up to him and he moved farther up the canon. Here he waited, and -presently The Wounded Bad Man joined him. - -“What luck, Bill?” he demanded. - -“A boy,” responded The Wounded Bad Man. “Come on down an' look at him, -Tom. He's worth it. He's man size.” - -“How about that misfortunate girl?” - -“She ain't a-goin' to last long, Tom. She's a-goin' fast, an' she wants -to see you--all of us--together. She's quiet now.” - -Thus reassured, The Worst Bad Man returned with The Wounded Bad Man to -the Tanks. With uncovered head he approached the wagon, dreading to -gaze upon that tragic face, drawn with agony. But lo! as he parted the -curtains he gazed upon the miracle of motherhood. Gone were the lines of -suffering; the girl's face was transfigured with the light of that joy -and peace and pride that God gives to new-made mothers, and for the -first time in all his hard life The Worst Bad Man was permitted to -glimpse something of the glory of his Creator. - -The babe, wrapped in a coarse crash towel, lay in the hollow of the -little mother's arm, its red, puckered little face rested on her snowy -bosom, the while she gazed downward at her treasure. It came to The -Worst Bad Man very suddenly that once upon a time a woman had gazed -upon him with that same look of yearning and joy ineffable; and with -the thought he reached for the mother's left hand and carried it to -his cracked and blistered lips. He spoke no word, but as he bowed his -reckless head reverently over that fevered hand he seemed to cry aloud: - -“Here is my wasted and worthless life. I offer it in exchange for -yours.” - -The girl mother's calm, benevolent eyes beamed their gratitude. She -understood, and like a true mother she accepted his tribute--only the -sacrifice could not be for her. - -“What is your name?” she asked wearily. - -“Tom Gibbons.” - -“And yours?” turning to The Wounded Bad Man. - -“Bill Kearny.” - -She glanced inquiringly at The Youngest Bad Man. - -“Bob Sangster,” he replied. - -“Will you save my baby?” Slowly, searchingly, the wonderful eyes -confronted each Bad Man in turn. - -“I'll save him,” promised The Youngest Bad Man. With all the rashness, -the unthinking, unreasoning confidence and generosity of youth, he -passed his word. He recked not of the long trail ahead with death for -the pacemaker. He only knew that this woman of sorrow had gazed longest -upon him, estimating the strength in his lithe, big body, searching for -his manhood in the face where sin had not yet laid its devastating hand. -So he passed his word, and passing it in all the regal simplicity of the -brave, the mother knew that he would keep it. - -“I'll help,” croaked The Wounded Bad Man humbly. He glanced at The Worst -Bad Man, who bowed his head once more over the little hand. - -“I'll help too.” - -“I want you--all of you--to be my baby's godfathers. Poor little son! -He'll be all alone in this big world when his mamma leaves him, and he's -going to miss her so. Aren't you, sweetheart? Nobody to tuck you into -bed at night, nobody to teach you your prayers, nobody to kiss the -little sore spots when you fall and hurt yourself, nobody to tell your -little secrets to----” - -She closed her eyes. A tear stole through between the long lashes, and -The Wounded Bad Man turned away. The Youngest Bad Man went and sat down -on the wagon tongue and wept, for he was young. Only The Worst Bad Man -stayed, watching, waiting. And presently the mother spoke again. - -“Are you all here? It's getting dark--and we must be moving on--to -the next waterhole. You--Bob Sangster--take baby. You said you'd save -him--didn't you? And Bill Kearny--and--Tom--Gibbons--will you be his -godfathers--and--help--Bob--Sangster--on the--trail? Will you?. -Promise--me--again--and... his name?... Call him -Robert--William--Thomas--Sangster... and when he's--a fine--big--brave -man--like his--godfathers--you'll tell--him--about his little mother -who--wanted to live--for him so.... Lift him up--godfathers--and let -me--kiss my--baby.” - -The Worst Bad Man waited until the last fluttering little sigh was -finished before he removed the infant. The Wounded Bad Man closed the -mother's eyes and folded her hands across her pulseless breast. The -Youngest Bad Man stood, grasping the brake-rod until his knuckles showed -white with the strain of the grip. Long he stood there, gazing at that -calm, spiritual face with its halo of glistening brown hair, pondering -deeply on the mysteries of birth and life and death. To him it all -seemed a monstrous thing; and when The Worst Bad Man came to him with a -shovel he wept aloud. - -“Death is a terrible thing, Tom,” he sobbed. - -“Life's worse,” said The Wounded Bad Man gently. He was seated apart, -with the baby in his arms, shielding it from the sun with his broad -sombrero. “Death can only get you once, but Life is a ghost dance. I -wonder what it has in store for you, kidlets. I wonder.” - -The Youngest Bad Man departed down the arroyo with the shovel and The -Worst Bad Man, discovering a hammer and nails in the toolbox under the -scat, removed the side boards and some strips from the wagon bed and -fell briskly to work. When The Wounded Bad Man had satisfied himself -that The Youngest Bad Man was nor within hearing, he spoke: - -“I say, Tom. Did you notice her when she asked us to save the baby? She -picked on Bob. Seems as if she knew.” - -“I noticed. I guess she knew. They say angels always does know. It's -forty-five miles to New Jerusalem, Bill, and you can't make it, and -I'm--I'm too old for a long stretch without water.” - -“That's why I said I'd help.” - -“Same here.” - -“We've got to do the first two heats, Tom. We've got to save young Bob's -strength for the final dash. I'll carry the baby an' you carry the grub -an' things tonight, an' tomorrow night----” - -“I'll carry everything tomorrow night; after that it'll be up to Bob. -He's young and hard and game. He ought to make it.” - -Late in the afternoon, with clumsy tenderness they buried the martyred -mother there by the Terrapin Tanks, built a cairn over the grave and -crowned it with a cross. Then they returned to the dismantled wagon to -hold a consultation. - -The Wounded Bad Man was the first to broach the subject closest to the -hearts of all three. - -With characteristic directness he shot his query at them. All his wicked -life he had been facing desperate issues; long since he had learned to -face them unblinkingly. - -“Robert William Thomas's got to have a bath, ain't he?” - -The Youngest Bad Man took hold of the brake rod again and steadied -himself. The Worst Bad Man looked at the wounded godfather in vague -surprise. - -“I never figgered on that at all,” he said simply. “I was thinkin' about -how we're to feed him. I'm for tubbin' him all right, but----” - -He held up the two canteens. His pause was eloquent. - -“But he's such a little feller it won't take much,” protested The -Wounded Bad Man. “He'll fit nice in a dishpan.” - -“I wish he was old enough to stagger along a few days without bathin',” - mourned The Youngest Bad Man. “Maybe he can. I don't know a thing about -infants; but if he must be bathed, why I guess we'd better----” - -“I 'lowed to ask his mother a few questions regardin' his up-keep and -what-all,” interrupted The Wounded Bad Man apologetically, “but I clean -forgot.” - -The Worst Bad Man wagged his head as if to convey the impression that -this was a pardonable oversight indeed. He was thinking. - -“It stands to reason,” he announced presently, “that this infant's -mother naturally made some provision for his reception into camp. It's -my opinion that gettin' a bath is the least o' the troubles confrontin' -our godson. He's just naturally got to eat, an' wear somethin' better'n -a towel that'll plum scratch the hide off'n him. There ought to be -somethin' for Robert boy in that tail-box.” - -So they searched the tailbox and discovered many things--condensed -milk, a carton of soda crackers, a quart bottle of olive oil, a feeding -bottle, two “bluffers” with real ivory rings, and an assortment of baby -clothes, many of them hemstitched and worked through long months of -loving anticipation. The silence was pregnant of tears as The Worst Bad -Man held up a wee woolen undershirt and two little stockings that might -have been cut from the index fingers of a pair of woolen mittens. The -trio surveyed them wonderingly before returning to the search of the -tailbox. - -“Ah, here we are, Tom, all fine and dandy,” announced The Wounded -Bad Man, fishing up a book from the recesses of the tailbox. “'Doctor -Meecham on Carin' for the Baby.' Let's see what the doc has to say about -it.” - -“Here's another,” said The Worst Bad Man, picking up another book -and skimming through the first few pages, “but it don't say nothin' -about----It's a Bible!” - -He tossed it from him contemptuously, and The Youngest Bad Man, still -under the spell of his youth and its resultant curiosity, retrieved the -Bible. The Worst Bad Man, in the mean time, peered over the shoulder of -The Wounded Bad Man. - -“Turn to the part on bathin' the baby, Bill,” he commanded. - -“Hum! Ah-hem! Let me see. All right, Tom.” - -“Bathin' the Baby--Too much care cannot be exercised in performin' this -most important part of the baby's toilette----” - -“What in blazes is a toilette?” demanded The Worst Bad Man. The Wounded - -Ban Man thereupon looked into the tailbox as if in search of it. - -“I guess our baby ain't got no toilette in his war bags,” he replied -sadly. “A toilette,” he continued, “is a little green tin bathtub about -as long as my arm. Cost about _dos pesos_ in any hardware store.” - -“You--Bob. You hear that?” admonished The Worst Bad Man. “When you get -to New Jerusalem, you send out to Dan-by first-off an' round up the best -toilette money can buy. Remember that, Bob. Crack right along. Bill. -What does the doc say next?” - -“The First Bath--The first bath should not be administered until the -baby is at least three days old----” - -“Bill,” said The Worst Bad Man, looking solemnly at his companion, “if I -had a sick tomcat I wouldn't send for Doc Meecham. Three days without a -bath! That's all right when the boy's a grown-up an' ain't supposed to -bathe between waterholes when he's in the desert, or every Saturday -night when he's in town, but with new babies I'll lay you my silver -spurs tis different. The doc's wrong, Bill. But come again.” - -Thus encouraged, The Wounded Bad Man read; - -“Immediately after birth the nurse should rub the entire body with -olive oil, or, if that is not available, with some clean, pure grease or -lard.” - -The Wounded Bad Man closed the book, but kept his finger in to mark the -place. - -“It don't sound regular, Tom, I'll admit; but there's a bottle of olive -oil in the tailbox, so it looks like Robert William Thomas was due for a -greasin' up in accordance with the doctor's orders.” - -The Worst Bad Man pondered. “Well, I ain't convinced nohow,” he said -presently. “This godson o' ours is startin' life slippery enough with us -for his godfathers.” He pondered a moment or two longer. “Still, it we -follow the book it may save Robert from chafin' an' gettin' saddle galls -on him. Hand over the ile, Bob, an' we'll slick the young feller up -a mite. It's just the tenderness o' hell we don't have to use -axle-grease!” - -The Wounded Bad Man held the naked babe in his lap, across which he had -spread the towel, and The Worst Bad Man applied the oil. - -“Roll him over, Bill.” - -The Wounded Bad Man rolled him over, and in a few minutes the task was -completed. Dressing the infant, however, was infinitely more laborious. -The godfathers, knowing something of the biting chill of the desert -nights, were grateful for the profusion of woolen clothing and delicate -woolen baby blankets which their search of the tailbox had netted, and -when in due course The Youngest Bad Man had succeeded in dressing the -infant after a nondescript fashion of his own, The Worst Bad Man corked -the olive oil bottle, wiped his hands on his trousers, and beamed with -the consciousness of a duty well performed. - -Next, The Wounded Bad Man ran his horny thumb down the index of Doctor -Meecham on Caring for the Baby, until he came to the chapter entitled: -“Feeding the Baby.” This chapter he real aloud. - -“This is comfortin',” he remarked, turning down the leaf to mark the -page. “Doctor Meecham says that there's times when a baby won't thrive -on nothin' else but condensed milk. We got plenty o' that.” - -“Yes, an' we can maul up some o' them sody crackers an' make some pap -for him,” replied The Worst Bad Man; “an' in a pinch we can bile him a -pot o' gruel.” - -“We'll need water for that, Tom,” The Wounded Bad Man reminded him; “an' -we'll need water to dilute this here condensed milk an' warm it up -for the feedin' bottle. I 'low some of the godfathers's goin' to suck -niggerhead cactus enough to do 'em quite a spell before they hit New -Jerusalem.” - -“That's right,” The Worst Bad Man replied gravely; “Robert William -Thomas's got to have the water, an' Jerusalem's the nearest camp, an' -it's about forty-five mile as the crow flies. Malapa; Springs is back -there thirty-odd mile, though----” - -“There ain't no women at Malapai Springs,” retorted The Wounded Bad Man -pointedly, “and we can't fool no time in the desert with this infant. -It's up to us to hike--an' hike lively--to New Jerusalem. We've got six -cans o' condensed milk, an' we can't get morn't three shots o' milk -from each can. It's going to spoil quick after it's opened. Besides, if -we----” - -The Youngest Bad Man had just been the recipient of a serious thought. -He hastened to get it off his mind. Boylike he interrupted and rose to a -question of information. - -“What's a godfather, Bill? What job does he hold down?” - -“You're an awful ignorant young man, Bob,” replied The Wounded Bad -Man reproachfully. “You been raised out in the woods somewheres? A -godfather, Bob, is a sort of reserve parent. When a kid is baptized -there's a godfather an' a godmother present, an' for an' on behalf o' -the kid they promise the preacher, just the same as the kid would if he -could only talk, to renounce the devil with all his works an' pomps----” - -“What's his works and pumps?” demanded The Youngest Bad Man. - -“Well--robbin' banks an' shootin' up deputy sheriffs, et cetry, et -cetry.” - -The Youngest Bad Man smiled wanly. “Well, Bill, all I got to say is -that us three're a lovely bunch o' godfathers. Best thing we can do is to -shunt the job to a godmother.” - -“But there ain't no godmother,” said The Worst Bad Man sadly. “It's up -to us. She”--he jerked an oily thumb toward the little mound of sand and -rock--“she said somethin' about teachin' him his prayers an' bringin' -h'm up a big, brave, strong man--like--like his godfathers.” - -“Well, that's part of the job, too,” The Wounded Bad Man informed them. -“I went to a Sunday-school when I was a kid, an' I know what I'm -talkin' about. A godfather's got to keep his eye peeled an' see that his -godchild gets a reeligious education.” - -“Then,” said The Youngest Bad Man, “I reckon we'd better tote along this -here Bible. I just come across somethin' interestin'. It's about Jesus -Christ ridin' into Jerusalem. Listen:” - -And The Youngest Bad Man proceeded to read from the Gospel according to -St. Matthew: - -“And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, and were come to Bethphage, -unto the Mount of Olives, then sent Jesus two disciples, Saying unto -them, Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall -find an ass tied, and a colt with her: loose them, and bring them unto -me. And if any man say ought unto you, ye shall say, The Lord hath need of -them; and straightway he will send them.” - -“Rot!” snapped The Worst Bad Man. “I don't believe a word of it. You try -swipin' a man's jacks, with or without a colt, in this country, an' see -what happens if you say the Lord hath need of them. The Lord won't save -you nohow. But cut out this religious talk, Bob, an' rustle up some -sagebrush for a fire. We'll heat some of this airtight milk and feed our -godson before we leave.” - -The fire was lit forthwith, and the condensed milk prepared according to -the instructions laid down by Doctor Meecham. The Worst Bad Man poured -the water, while the other two godfathers guarded jealously every drop. -He heated the mixture to the proper temperature, warmed the feeding -bottle in it and then filled the bottle. The Wounded Bad Man sat -with the baby in his lap and pressed the feeding bottle to the little -stranger's lips. - -It was an anxious moment to the three godfathers. Would he or would he -not “take hold?” He did, promptly, with a gusto that brought a howl of -delight from The Worst Bad Man. - -“I sure do admire to see the way that young feller adapts himself to -conditions.” said The Wounded Bad Man proudly. - -“Hops right to it, like a drunkard to a Fourth of July barbecue,” said -The Youngest Bad Man. “He'll do.” There was all the pride of fatherhood -in the boy's tones. “Game little pup, ain't he?” - -“His poor little ma was game,” remarked The Worst Bad Man “He comes by -it natural. I wonder what kind of a coyote his old man was. It'd sure -be a sin if this boy grew up to be as big a fool as his father. I'd turn -over in my grave.” - -“Well, that's up to the last of the godfathers,” said The Wounded Bad -Man. “Mind you learn him hoss-sense, Bob. Don't let him grow up to wear -eyeglasses before he's twenty-one years old, an' make him say 'sir' when -he speaks to you. Teach him hoss-sense and respect, Bob. Them's the two -great requirements to a man's education.” - -“The way he's downin' his provender,” The Worst Bad Man remarked, “he'll -be full up in five minutes and want to go to sleep. It's too hot to -resk him out just now, an' Doc Meecham says he's go to be fed every four -hours. We'll set up the drinks to Robert agin at four o'clock, an' then -we'll git out o' this hole a-flyin'. Pendin' our departure, Bob, my son, -you pull off to one side an' study all that Doctor Meecham has to say -about carin' for the baby. - -“Knowledge ain't so awful heavy, my son, when you carry it in your -head, an' this Doc Meecham book weighs more'n two pounds. Bill'll take a -little sleep, an' I'll keep the flies off'n him an' the infant.” - -***** - -It was almost sun-down when the three godfathers left Terrapin Tanks -with their godson and struck off through the low black hills toward -the northeast. A cold night wind was springing up, and to the thirsty -godfathers, not one of whom had tasted water since sun-up that morning, -the cool breeze was refreshing. - -Up the wild, lonely draws they trudged, the sleeping infant, wrapped in -a double blanket, reposing in the hollow of The Wounded Bad Man's -sound arm. The man's face was drawn and very haggard, and he staggered -slightly from weakness once or twice in spots where the trail was rough. -The Youngest Bad Man, following at his heels, was quick to notice this. - -“Here, I ain't carryin' an ounce o' weight,” he expostulated. “Bill's -carryin' th' water an' the airtight milk an' the feedin' bottle an' the -camp kettle and our grub, an' you're carryin' the baby an' a bundle of -extra clothes. Lemme spell you a few miles, Bill. You're in bad shape -with that sore shoulder, an' you're goin' to wear yourself out too -soon.” - -The Wounded Bad Man shook his head. “I'll carry him as far as I can -while I got the strength to do it. I ain't carryin' more'n fifteen -pounds, but it'll be enough for you before you get to New Jerusalem.” - -“Why, ain't you comin' with us?” demanded The Youngest Bad Man. - -“No,” The Wounded Bad Man retorted firmly, “I ain't.” - -The Worst Bad Man turned in the trail, unscrewed the cap of the canteen -and held the canteen toward the Wounded Bad Man. - -“I think we can spare just one mouthful, Bill,” he said kindly. “You -bein' hit through the shoulder that-a-way, naturally we don't hold you -so rigid to the rule.” - -The Wounded Bad Man had been nuzzling the baby's forehead with the tip -of his great sunburnt nose. Now he raised his head quickly and his face -was terrible to behold. - -“I've done a heap o' ornery things in my day,” he growled, “but I ain't -stealin' the water that belongs to my godson. Don't you insult me no -more, Tom Gibbons.” - -“That reminds me,” remarked The Worst Bad Man affably, “you're carryin' -some extra weight.” - -He reached forward, unbuckled The Wounded Bad Man's belt, with its forty -rounds of pistol cartridge and the heavy revolver, and tossed it into -the greasewood. - -“That helps some!” The Wounded Bad Man growled out the words again. - -They walked on in silence hour after hour. Presently as they trudged -along The Worst Bad Man began lighting matches. - -“Nine o'clock,” he announced. “Third drink-time for Robert William -Thomas. We'll make a dry camp an' heat some more milk--listen!” - -From a draw to the right there came, borne on the night wind, the sound -of savage growling and yelping, as of dogs quarreling ever a bone. - -“Coyotes,” The Youngest Bad Man elucidated. “They got somethin'.” - -“Move along out o' here,” cried The Wounded Bad Man irritably. “I don't -want to listen to that. They'll get me soon enough.” - -They moved farther up the draw and camped for half an hour. Again The -Wounded Bad Man fed the baby, and once more they swung away on -their sorry road to New Jerusalem. Toward morning the baby awoke and -whimpered, and The Wounded Bad Man, who never once during the long night -had relinquished his trust, sought to soothe it with song: - - <i>Oh, Ella Ree, so kind an” true, - - In th' little churchyard lies. - - Her grave is bright with drops o' dew, - - But brighter were her eyes. - - Then carry me back to Tennessee, - - There let me----</i> - -It was a melody of his childhood. His mother had sung it to him in the -old lost days of his youth and innocence, and the plaintive ballad came -cracked and quavering through lips swollen with suffering. It was a -mournful song, but it seemed appropriate, for The Wounded Bad Man was -thinking of the little mother away off there in the silence at Terrapin -Tanks. Whether from this or physical inability to proceed farther, his -voice broke in the second line of the chorus. - -“Dog my cats,” he gasped feebly, “I can't sing a lick no more!” - -“I'll sing for him,” volunteered The Youngest Bad Man; “I'l give him 'The -Yeller Rose o' Texas'.” - -They made fifteen miles that first night, and at sun-up they emerged -from the black volcanic hills out on to a great, white, shimmering, dry -salt lake. A mile away a little cabin, dazzling white in the glint of -the rising sun, flared against the horizon, and far to the northeast the -Witch of Old Woman Mountain sat watching them. - -“Over there on the southeast spur of Old Woman you'll find New -Jerusalem, Bob,” The Worst Bad Man explained. “That mountain with -the rocky crest that looks like a witch in profile--that's Old Woman -Mountain. Watch the Witch, Bob, an' you'll get there.” - -The Youngest Bad Man nodded. “We can't carry the baby in this heat,” he -reminded them. “Hand him over, Bill, and I'll just buck-jump along to -that little cabin an' hole up with him till you an' Tom catch up.” - -“I'll carry him,” The Wounded Bad Man retorted doggedly. - -“You'll not.” The Youngest Bad Man was aroused. “You're dyin' on your -feet, Bill Kearny, an' I ain't goin' to see you stand by an' fall with -my godson an' hurt him maybe. Come across with him.” - -Reluctantly The Wounded Bad Man surrendered the child to The Youngest -Bad Man. The latter was drawn and weary himself, but he had what neither -of his comrades possessed--he had glorious Youth. He would still be -on his feet and traveling with his godson when the coyotes would be -quarreling over the others. He trotted off now, in a hurry to reach the -lone cabin before the heat became too oppressive. - -The Worst Bad Man looked after him enviously. “What a man!” he muttered. -“Lean an' long an' tough. If we strike some niggerhead cactus he'll get -through. He can last two days more.” - -“But I don't see no niggerhead cactus,” complained The Wounded Bad Man. -“It's ten miles across this salt lake, an'----” - -He swayed and fell on his hands and knees. The Worst Bad Man helped him -up. They stood for a moment, leaning against each other, resting; then -plodded weakly on. The Worst Bad Man was the first to speak. His tongue -was dry and swollen but he could still speak plainly. - -“D'ye remember, Bill, that yarn that Bob read us outen that Bible last -night--about Christ ridin' into Jerusalem an' Him send-in' two men over -to the nearest camp for a jinny with a colt? It kinder set me thinkin', -an' I been wonderin' all night. Bill, do you believe in God?” - -“I dunno,” The Wounded Bad Man replied thickly. “I usen't to, but I -dunno now'. I seen things yesterday--in that woman's eyes when she -talked about the baby not havin' anybody to teach him his prayers an' -him growin' up a fine, good man. I been wonderin', too, Tom. You -don't suppose, Tom, that the Bible's wrong and that Christ sent three -disciples instead o' two?” - -“Why?” - -“Because,”--The Wounded Bad Man paused and looked at his companion -very impressively--“I kinder feel like me an' you an' Bob was -disciples--since I seen that girl an' held that little mite of a kid -in my arms. I been figgerin' it out, Tom, an' I allow that Bob ought to -make Jerusalem with Robert William Thomas some time Christmas mornin'. -The thought's comforted me a heap. Somehow I sorter got the notion -that there can't no hard luck come to a Christmas baby, an' Christ just -naturally can't go back on us if we play the game fair by that kid.” - -The Worst Bad Man nodded grave approval to these sentiments. The Wounded -Bad man continued: - -“It sorter sets my mind back thirty-five years. My folks used to take me -to church when I was a kid. I wasn't a churchgoer by nature, but there -was one picture on the wall of that church of a naked baby lyin' in -his mother's lap, an' when the sun'd come streamin' in through them -stained-glass windows it used to light up their faces kinder beautiful. -An' yesterday mornin' when the sun”--here The Wounded Had Man stumbled -and fell once more. He picked himself up and continued wearily--“and -when the sun come streakin' over the Terrapin Tanks an' shone into that -wagon, I swear to God, Tom, it was the same two faces!” - -The Worst Bad Man made no reply. Privately he was of the opinion -that his companion was delirious. The latter's next remark, however, -precluded this idea. - -“We ain't done right by young Bob Sang-ster,” he complained. “We're a -pair o' hard old skunks, Tom, an' we've kinder influenced that boy. -He ain't bad. There ain't nothin' naturally crooked in Bob. He's -just young, an' thinks he's havin' adventures an' makin' a big man of -himself. That job at Wickenburg was the first trick he ever turned. -Before you boys leave me I'm goin' to talk to Bob. I'm going to talk -while I got my voice, because by noon my tongue'll be out of kilter----” - -“I'll talk to him too,” assented The Worst Bad Man eagerly. “I was -thinkin' the same thoughts as you, Bill. The last o' the godfathers -can't be no crook. Bill. He's got to do his duty by the infant.” - -An hour later they arrived at the white cabin on the dry salt lake. It -was not the kind of house one sees in cities, for it was built entirely -of blocks of rock salt, of such crystal clearness that as the two -godfathers approached they could discern the vague outlines of Boh -Sangster sitting inside with the baby. The roof of the house was of -canvas, sun-baked, rotten and filled with holes. Evidently the strange -habitation had been the abode of some desert visionary, who planned to -file on the salt lake and sell his concession to the Salt Trust. - -The Youngest Bad Man gave the baby into the keeping of The Wounded -Bad Man once more, while he and The Worst Bad Man busied themselves -spreading the double blanket over the ruined canvas roofing to keep -out the sun. Next they prepared some condensed milk and set the feeding -bottle out in the hot salt gravel until it should be heated to the -right temperature. And while they waited, sitting there in silence, The -Wounded Bad Man leaned back against the salt wall and closed his tired -eyes. The Worst Bad Man stooped and took the baby from him; yet he did -not seem to be aware of this action. This was a bad sign. The Youngest -Bad Man shook his head dubiously. - -Presently The Wounded Bad Man spoke. His speech was very thick and -labored, like that of a paralyzed man. - -“Bob,” he said, “I had somethin' to say to you, but I'm too weak to -preach now. Tom'll tell you. Got that Bible yet?” - -“Yes, Bill, I got it.” - -“All right, Bob. I'm just goin' to find out if there's a God, and if -there is I guess he'll give me a square deal. I'm goin' to give Him -three chances to prove He's on the job, an' I got to win two heats out -o' three before I'll believe. Open that Bible, Bob, an' read me the very -first thing you see.” - -The Youngest Bad Man opened the Bible and read from the Gospel according -to St. Matthew: - -“And Jesus called a little child unto Him, and set him in the midst of -them, “And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and -become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of -heaven. - -“Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same -is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. - -“And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.” - -The Youngest Bad Man closed the book. - -“Open it again,” The Wounded Bad Man commanded. - -The Youngest Bad Man opened it at random and read from the Gospel -according to St. Luke: - -“And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If -thou be Christ, save thyself and us. - -“But the other answering rebuked him, saying, “Dost not thou fear God, -seeing thou art in the same condemnation? - -“And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but -this man hath done nothing amiss. - -“And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy -kingdom. - -“And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be -with me in paradise.” - -“That'll do, Bob,” murmured The Wounded Bad Man. “I call upon you an' -Tom to witness that I receive that woman's baby--in God's name. If -I whimper for water don't give it to me. There's blood poison in my -shoulder an' arm an' I'm goin' crazy. I'm burnin' up--but it's comin' -to me. Lord, it's comin' to me. I don't complain none, Lord, an' I thank -Thee for bringin' me this far--with the little chap--for Thy sake, Lord. -Our Father, who art--who art--who art--who art--in Heaven, blessed--I -can't remember, Bob. It's a long time.... I'll try another--” - -“He's off at last,” muttered The Worst Bad Man. “It's the blood poison. -He's been dyin' since we left Malapai Springs. Listen at him, Bob. What -kind o' stuff is he talkin'?--listen!” - -They bent over The Wounded Bad Man and listened intently, for it seemed -to them he was wandering far afield in his delirium. He was. Bill -Kearny's body was dying, but his soul was wandering adown the wild and -checkered path of his career to its dim and distant starting point. - - “Now I lay me down to sleep, - - I pray the Lord my soul to keep. - - If I should die before I wake, - - I pray the Lord my soul to take.” - -“God bless my father and mother and my little sister--and make me a good -boy. Amen!” - -The Worst Bad Man's face twitched a little “Good Jesus Christ!” he -murmured. The words were not a blasphemy. They fell from his blackened -lips like a benediction--in his fierce eyes a soft and human light was -beaming. “Jesus Christ _is_ good. He's slippin' it easy to old Bill. -He's made him a child again.” - -Throughout the long, stifling day they sat and watched him, and when he -became delirious The Youngest Bad Man took the baby in hand, in case The -Wounded Bad Man should suddenly become violent. Late in the afternoon -when the baby had been fed and wrapped again in the blanket, preparatory -to taking the trail once more, the dying godfather rolled over and -opened his eyes. They bent to hear his last message. It was almost -unintelligible. - -“It's a Christmas baby--it belongs--in Jerus--alem. -Stick it out to--finish--good--boys--don't -let--my--godson--die--between--two--thieves-----” - -They pressed his hand. The Worst Bad Man had the pack ready and slipped -it over his weary shoulders. He reached for the baby. - -“Gimme the kid,” he cried thickly. “I got ten miles left in me yet. I'll -see you across the dry lake.” - -The Youngest Bad Man understood now. He handed over the baby, and -together the two godfathers passed out of the shack into the great salt -desert... And some time during the night the angels came and led Bill -Kearny into paradise. - -After leaving the cabin The Worst Bad Man, realizing that the next -ten miles of their journey across the salt lake offered free, smooth -footing, resolved to make the pace while the “going” was good. They were -no longer hampered by being forced to suit their gait to that of Bill -Kearny, and The Worst Bad Man was resolved to see his godson safe across -the dry lake before surrendering. - -He swayed considerably as he walked, but The Youngest Bad Man strode -beside him, with a hand on his arm, and helped to hold him steady. And -as they proceeded The Worst Bad Man talked to Bob Sangster. - -It was a short sermon, evolved, in terse, eloquent sentences, from out -the bitterness of The Worst Bad Man's dark past and still darker future. - -“Bill Kearny never went back on a pal, son, an' when I quit you I want -you to say, 'Well, Tom Gibbons, he never went back on a pal nuther.' -An' when you come to cash in, you want to have our godson say, 'An' Bob -Sangster, too--he never went back on a pal.' Cut out the crooked work, -son. Nobody has anythin' on you yet--start straight an' raise this boy -straight, an' if ever you spot him showin' signs o' breakin' away from -the reservation, just you remind him that a woman an' two men died to -make a man outer him. That's all. I ain't goin' to try to talk no more.” - -At midnight The Worst Bad Man was very weak. He swayed and staggered and -stopped every few hundred yards to rest, but he would not give up the -baby. - -“I'll last till sun-up,” he told himself; “I got to. I ain't the -quittin' kind.” - -About two o'clock in the morning the moon came out; from somewhere in -the distance a coyote gave tongue, and The Worst Bad Man shivered a -little. At three o'clock they came out of the dry salt lake into the -sands again, and The Youngest Bad Man held out his arms for the baby. - -“He needs grub mighty bad,” was what The Worst Bad Man tried to say, but -the words came only as an unintelligible mumble. There had been no sage -on the dry lake and they had been unable to make a fire. For two hours -the baby had been whimpering with hunger and cold. The Worst Bad Man -slipped out of his pack, gathered some dry sagebrush and lit a roaring -fire, while his youthful companion ministered to the baby. And when Bob -Sang-ster had finished The Worst Bad Man smoothed a two-foot area in -the sand, and by the light of the campfire he wrote with his finger the -words that he could not speak: - -“You carry baby. I'm good two three miles more with pack. I leave you -twelve miles from New Jerusalem. Don't lay up today keep moving put baby -half rations savvy.” - -The Youngest Bad Man nodded. When dawn began to show in the east they -resumed the journey. After the first mile, The Worst Bad Man gave signs -that the end was coming very soon. He fell more frequently, barking his -hands and knees, filling his mouth and eyes with sand, tearing his -flesh in the catclaws. Weary, monotonous gasps came from his constricted -throat, but still he staggered along, although his strength had been -gone for hours. He was traveling on his nerve now. - -Slowly the dawnlight crept over the desert, softening with its magic -beauty the harsh empire of death. The Worst Bad Man saw the rosy glow -lighting up the saturnine face of the witch of Old Woman Mountain, and -was content. He had promised himself to last till dawn. He had kept his -word. - -He sank to his knees in the sand. Bob, Sangster stooped and lifted him -to his feet. He staggered along a few yards and fell again, and when -Bob Sangster would fain have lifted him once more, The Worst Bad Man -motioned him back with an imperious wave of his hand, for he did not -want the boy to waste his strength. He tried to protest verbally, but a -horrible sound was all that came from his swollen mouth. - -The Youngest Bad Man tarried for a moment, irresolute, standing over -him. The Worst Bad Man deliberately removed his hat and handed it to the -young godfather, who took it, fitted a branch of sagebrush with three -forks at one end into the crown of the wide-brimmed hat, and thus -constructed a sort of crude parasol wherewith to keep the sun from the -baby. The Worst Bad Man nodded his approbation, and Bob Sangster lowered -the baby until its soft little face brushed the bloody bristles on -The Worst Bad Man's cheek; a handclasp--and the last of the godfathers -turned his young face toward New Jerusalem and departed into the eye of -the coming day. - -The Worst Bad Man watched him until he disappeared into the neutrals of -the desert before he turned his head to glance back, along the trail by -which they had come. Away off to the southwest, forty miles away, the -Cathedral Peaks lifted their castellated spires, and the gaze of the -stricken godfather went no farther. The Cathedral Peaks--how like -a church they seemed, standing there in the solitude, sublime, -indestructible, eternal, gazing down the centuries. The Worst Bad Man -was moved to solemn thought--he who had so little time for thought now. -His mind harkened back to the scene in the salt house on the dry lake, -to Bill Kearny's challenge to the Omnipotent, to the answers that came -to that anguished soul crying in the wilderness of doubt and unbelief; -and suddenly a great desire came over The Worst Bad Man. He, too, wanted -to know. He, too, would ask a sign. And if there was a God---- - -He stretched forth his arms toward the Cathedral Peaks. “Lord, give me a -sign,” he gobbled; “let me have The Light”; and, as if in answer to -his cry, the sun burst over the crest of the Panimints, a long shaft -of light shot across the desert and painted, in colors designed by the -Master Artist, the distant spires of the Cathedral Peaks. They flamed in -crimson, in gold, in flashes of silver light, fading away into turquoise -and deep maroon, and in that light The Worst Bad Man read the answer to -his riddle. - -“Lord, I believe.” The horrid gobbling broke the silence once more. -“Remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.” - -And then the desert madness smote his brain, and with the sudden, -terrible strength of the maniac he scrambled to his feet and started -across the waste toward the peaks. Over the long trail to the Great -Divide he ran, with arms outstretched; and as he ran the Peaks flamed -and flickered in heliograph flashes. Perhaps they carried a message, -a message that only The Worst Bad Man could understand--the message of -hope eternal sounding down the ages: - -“Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.” - -Presently The Worst Bad Man fell. It was the end. He had kept the faith. - -***** - -But Bob Sangster could not wait and watch and speculate. Time pressed; -at Terrapin Tanks he had passed his word, and he must be moving on if he -would save his godson. He had one can of condensed milk and half a quart -of water left. It behooved him to hurry. - -When the sun was an hour high and the desolate landscape lay baking and -shimmering round him, he crept into the meager shadow of a palo-verde -tree, undressed the infant, rubbed him with the last of the olive oil -and threw the bottle away. Then with new, fresh garments carried from -Terrapin Tanks he dressed the baby. He wet his bandana handkerchief and -washed the little red face. He was preparing for the final dash. - -He abandoned the supply of mesquit-bean bread and jerked beef, the -Bible, and Doctor Meecham's invaluable work on Caring for the Baby. -He considered a moment, and decided to abandon also the heavy woolen -blanket in which they had been carrying the baby. It mea'nt six pounds -less weight, and unless they made New Jerusalem before sundown Robert -William Thomas would not need it. With or without blankets, they would -both sleep cold under the stars tonight, for Bob Sang-ster was once more -confronted by the primal necessity of his calling. He had to “take a -chance.” - -He was about to discard his six-shooter and belt, but a stealthy crackle -in the sagebrush caused him to reconsider. He watched the spot whence -the sounds came and presently he made out the form of a coyote. The -brute was sitting on his hunkers, his red tongue lolling out of the -corner of his mouth, his glance fixed in lazy appraisal upon the last of -the godfathers and the bundle that he carried. - -The boldness of the beast was an insult in itself. It drove Bob Sangster -wild with anger. With marvelous brute intelligence the coyote had sensed -the weakness of the man, and patiently he had set himself the task of -shadowing him to the finish. He sat there now--waiting. In his contempt -for the hereditary enemy the gray skulker did not even trouble to -conceal his intentions. - -“So you're hangin' round for the pickin's already,” snarled Bob -Sangster, and fired. The coyote turned a somersault and crawled away -through the sage, dragging its hindlegs after it, and two more coyotes -sprang up at the sound of the shot and scurried out of range. - -“You think I'll drop this boy, don't you?” raved the godfather, blazing -away at the fleeing enemy long after it was out of range. He seized -Robert William Thomas and, holding his hat parasol over the child, -hurried along toward the mouth of a draw. He was getting in among the -low, black, volcanic hills and lava beds again, and the reflected heat -was terrible. Cautiously he made his way along the shady side of the -canon, and for an hour he progressed thus until the sun, having risen -higher, sought him out. - -Horned toads and lizards scuttled out of his path in fright, chuckwallas -blinked their eyes at him, a desert terrapin waddled leisurely by, and -once, gazing back over the trail, he saw that the coyotes had recovered -from their fright and were following him again. He commenced to see -mirages--wonderfully beautiful little lakes, fringed with palms and -bright-green rushes. Distinctly he heard the pleasant murmur of water -tumbling over rocks. He was tempted to pause and search for this purling -brook, but his common-sense warned that it was all a delusion of the -heat and his own imagination. He knew that the sun was getting him fast, -that he was drying up. - -“Cactus,” he kept repeating to himself, as if in that one word he -held the open sesame of life; “just one niggerhead cactus.” But the -niggerhead cactus, with its scanty supply of vegetable juices, did not -grow in the country through which he was traveling, and as the slow -miles slipped behind him and his eager glance revealed the entire -absence of the shrub that meant life to him and Robert William Thomas, -the terrible uselessness of his struggle, the horrible forlornness of -his forlorn hope, became more and more apparent. The baby was whimpering -continually now, and faint blue rings had appeared under the little -sufferer's eyes. He was sick and tired and hot and itchy, and despite -the fact that the godfathers had done their best, Bob Sangster knew that -the child could not last a day longer without proper attention. It was -a miracle that he had survived thus far--a miracle only accounted for -by reason of the fact that he was a healthy, hearty twelve-pounder at -birth. The last of the godfathers tried vainly to soothe him with the -oft-successful Yeller Rose o' Texas, but he was beyond singing now, and -in the knowledge that both were going swiftly he mingled his tears with -those of his godson. Yet they were manly tears, and no taint of selfpity -brought them forth. Only it broke Bob Sangster's heart to think of his -helpless godson and of the gray scavengers skulking behind. - -Suddenly the godfather thrilled with a great feeling of relief and joy. -He had come to an Indian water sign; he read it at a glance. Five little -rock monuments in a circle, with a sixth standing off to the right -about thirty feet from the others. In that direction the water lay, and -bearing due southwest Bob Sangster saw a draw opening up. The journey -would take him a mile or two out of his way, but what mattered a mile or -ten miles, provided he found water? The prospect gave him renewed hope -and strength. He forged steadily ahead and when the canon narrowed he -knew he was coming to a “tank.” Up the wash he ran and sank, sobbing, on -the edge of the water-hole. It was quite dry. - -It was a long time before he could gather his courage together and -depart down the canon again. He had traveled two miles for nothing! He -wept anew at the thought, marveling the while that there should be so -much moisture still in his wretched body. - -At the mouth of the canon he halted and prepared the last of his -condensed milk and water for the baby. When he proffered it, however, -the child screamed and refused the horrid draught, and as he lay on the -man's knees with his little mouth open Bob Sangster dropped in the last -dregs of his canteen. - -“You need water, too, son,” he mumbled sadly. “This sweet dope is -killin' you.” - -He replaced the feeding bottle in his pocket, paused long enough to -kill another coyote that had ventured too close, and resumed his journey -toward New Jerusalem. He had left the dry tank at noon. At one o'clock -he was two miles nearer New Jerusalem; at three o'clock he was within -five miles of the camp and had fallen for the first time. But even as he -fell he had thrust out his left hand, thus fending his weight from -the baby, and the child had not been injured. So the godfather merely -covered the child's tender head with Tom Gibbons' old hat, and together -they lay for a while prone in the sand. The man was not yet done, but he -was exhausted and half blind and very weak. He was striving to get his -courage in hand once more, and he needed a rest so badly. So he lay -there, trying to think, until presently the whimpering of the infant -aroused him, and he sat up suddenly. - -Seated in a circle, of which Bob Sangster and the baby formed the axis, -were half a dozen coyotes. They were closer now--too close for comfort -and, cowardly as he knew them to be, there were enough of them present -to fan their courage to the point where a single rush would end it. He -fired at them and they scampered away unharmed. - -“I can't shoot any more,” the man wailed. “I'm goin' blind. Come, son, -we must move on or they'll get us to-night.” - -He picked the child up and plodded on, and once more the coyotes fell -into line behind him. The godfather began to feel afraid of them. He was -obsessed with a horrible fear that they might sneak up and snap at him -from behind, or rush him en masse and tear the baby out of his arms. He -kept glancing back and firing at them. But all of his shots went wild -and gradually the tracing brutes grew bolder. Whenever he sat down for a -few minutes to rest they surrounded him, and it seemed to the godfather -that each time they edged in closer. He decided to save his cartridges -until the final rush. - -He tottered along until four o'clock before he fell again. This time he -twisted in time to land on his back, with the baby uppermost, and as he -lay there, stunned and shaken, the godfather was almost proud of himself -for his forethought. He closed his eyes to rid his vision of the myriads -of red, yellow and blue spots that came dancing out of the sand and -shooting into the air like skyrockets. The spots still persisted, -however--for the skyrockets were in his brain, and as he lay there it -came to him that this was to be the end after all. He was too weak to -carry the baby further. Sooner or later he would fall upon it and kill -it, so why struggle further---- - -The baby was leaving him! He could feel it being slowly dragged from his -protecting arm, and with a moan that was intended for a shriek he sat -up and reached for his gun. So close to him was the coyote, dragging -gingerly at the infant's clothing, that the godfather dared not fire. He -merely threw up his arms to frighten the beast away, and reluctantly it -trotted back and rejoined its companions of the slavering, red-tongued -circle. - -The godfather knelt in the sands beside the baby and searched for -the marks of teeth, but found none. The horror of their situation was -brought forcefully home to him now. He had hoped before, but hope was -vanished. New Jerusalem could not be more than three miles away, but -it might as well be three hundred, for Bob Sangster could never make -it with the baby. He thought no longer of life. He wanted to cheat the -coyotes, and in his agony he forgot that he was a Bad Man and cried -aloud to a Supreme Being of whom he knew nothing. - -“O God, save me, save me! Not for myself, but for this poor little baby. -I'm old and tough, Lord, but save the baby. You were a baby yourself -once, Lord, if the Bible don't lie. Now save my baby. Don't go back on -me, Lord. Help me, help me to keep my word to raise him right----” - -He clasped the child in his arms and kissed it passionately for the -first time since his assumption of the duties of a godfather And then, -because he was a fighter and could not quit while there was life within -him, he reeled onward with dogged persistence. He fixed his fading -glance on some unimportant landmark ana nerved himself to last until he -should reach it. Queer thoughts kept obtruding themselves upon him. Once -he thought a chuckwalla addressed him, saying: “Hello, Bob Sang-ster, -what are you runnin' away from? You can't dodge them coyotes. They're -goin' to get that infant, sure. Better chuck 'em the kid an' see if you -can't make it alone to New Jerusalem. That baby's weight is killin' you, -boy. After all, what is he to you? He's only a three-day-old baby. Why -don't, you drop him an' beat it in to New Jerusalem? You can make it -without the baby.” - -He had cursed the chuckwalla and stamped it into the earth for the -insult. But a moment later a horned toad advised him to drink the milk -that still remained in the feeding bottle. “Of course it's none o' my -business,” remarked the horned toad, “but if the baby won't drink it, -you should. It's foolish to let it go to waste. It's only a couple of -mouthfuls, but it'll give you strength to make that black lava point a -mile ahead.” - -“Horned Toad,” replied the godfather, “you're a sensible little critter -an' I'll take your advice. It ain't manly to do it, but nothin' matters -any more.” - -He drank the milk that the baby had refused, tossed the bottle aside and -nerved himself to last until he should reach the black lava point. That -was to be the last goal. If he fell before he reached it he resolved to -climb into a palo-verde tree, wedge himself and the baby in between the -limbs, kill the baby and himself, and thus dying have the laugh on the -coyotes. - -He fell. For the third time the child escaped being crushed. The -palo-verde tree was only fifty yards away, the black lava point -seventy-five yards, but when the godfather could scramble to his feet -again he made for the palo-verde tree. Here, to his disgust, he found -himself too weak to climb the tree. So he leaned against it and wept, -dry-eyed, with rage and horror and disappointment. The horned toad had -followed and now offered more advice. - -“Sangster, you're a chump. Why climb the tree? The buzzards will get -you, so what's the difference?” - -“I'll make the lava point,” replied the godfather. “They can't come at -me in back there, an' I can keep 'em away for a while anyhow.” - -He lurched away. Foot by foot he approached the black lava point. He -resolved to round it; there was shade on the other side. Staggering, -reeling, muttering incoherently, he rounded the lava rock and collided -with something soft and hairy. He leaned against it for a moment, -resting, while something soft and warm and animallike nuzzled him and -nickered softly in the joy of the meeting. When Bob Sangster opened his -eyes he found himself leaning against a trembling old white burro with a -pack on his back. - -“Water,” thought the godfather, “water. There ought to be a canvas -waterbag,” and he went clawing along the burro's side, feeling for the -waterbag but unable to find it. The little animal was standing patiently -in the shadow of the rock, and Bob Sangster stood off and looked at him. -The burro's eyes were red and dust-rimmed; evidently he had traveled -far. His legs trembled, his tongue, dry and black, protruded from his -mouth. The burro, too, was dying of thirst. - -“You poor devil,” mused Bob Sangster. He gazed at the pitiable little -animal, the while his memory strove to recall some other incident in -which a burro had figured. There had been some talk of burros recently -with Bill Kearny and Tom Gibbons. What was it? Well, never mind. It -didn't make any difference. This burro was dying and useless; there was no -water bag---- - -_And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem... then sent Jesus two -disciples, saying unto them, Go into the village over against you, and -straightway ye shall find an ass tied...._ - -The words of the Gospel according to St. Matthew flamed in letters of -fire across the failing vision of the last godfather. He remembered now. -He had read a chapter from the Bible to Bill Kearny and Tom Gibbons back -there at Terrapin Tanks--and it was all about Christ riding into -Jerusalem on an ass. Here, in the shadow of this black lava, he had -found a burro waiting! - -Bill Kearny had asked for a sign---- - -The last of the godfathers thought of his frenzied prayer of an hour -before. He had asked for help. Could it be possible that here stood the -answer? - -“There's a chance,” he mumbled. “This critter has stampeded from some -prospector's pack outfit He's been lookin' for water, and the Lord sent -him our way, sonny. He's sure sent him.” - -With his free hand the godfather clawed desperately at the diamond -hitch, swept the load from the packsaddle, ripped it apart and found--a -can of tomatoes. He slashed the can open, drank some himself and gave -the balance to the burro. Then, lifting his godson into the packsaddle, -he lashed him in securely; after which he took his open pocket knife in -hand and prodded the jaded burro until it consented to move away across -the desert at a crawling, shuffling gait. Bob Sangster walked beside -the burro, one hand busy with the point of the knife, the other clinging -desperately to the rear cross of the packsaddle. His strength had, in a -measure, returned after drinking the canned tomatoes, and he fancied that -the burro too seemed rejuvenated. Bob Sangster wished he had another can -of tomatoes to offer the little beast, for the lives of himself and -his godson depended on the burro. He leaned heavily against the animal, -which half led, half dragged him along. Thus an hour passed. - -They were ascending the upraise that led to the crest of the southeast -spur of Old Woman Mountain now, and through the sunset haze the witch's -demoniac face leered down at them from the heights above. Slowly, -haltingly, they progressed up the slope. The burro was almost spent, and -time and again he balked and groaned a feeble protest He welcomed the -occasions when the godfather's weak clasp of the packsaddle was broken -and he fell headlong to earth. But if he fell, the godfather rose again, -moaning, praying, raving, and still the awful cavalcade pressed on. - -The shadows grew' long. The sun disappeared and evening settled over the -desert, but still the sorry pilgrimage continued up the slope. Now they -were half a mile from it, a quarter, two hundred yards, a hundred from -the summit--the burro grunted, shivered and lay down. In the gathering -gloom Bob Sangster felt for the ropes which bound the baby to the pack, -cut them and stood clear of the dying beast. - -“You've pulled me up the slope in the heat, old fellow,” he tried to -say with lips that were split and parched and cut and bleeding. “I never -could have made it. New Jerusalem can't be far away now. I'll get there. -But----” - -He pressed the muzzle of his gun into the suffering animal's ear and -pulled. “I owed you that kindness,” he mumbled, and passed on to the -crest of the slope. - -At the summit he paused, swaying gently with his precious burden, and -gazed down the other side of the spur. In a hollow a few hundred yards -below him, the lights of New Jerusalem gleamed brightly through the -gathering gloom of that lonely Christmas Eve, and the godfather recalled -the words of Bill Kearny. - -“It's a Christmas baby. God won't go back on it.” - -Bob Sangster's tongue hung from his mouth, long and black and withered, -like the tongue of a dead beef, as he stood there on the outskirts of -New Jerusalem and thought of many things. Bill Kearny had been right. It -was a Christmas baby. It would pull through all right. He drew the baby -to him until their faces were very close, so close that a little hand -crept up and closed tightly over the godfather's nose. - -This was to be their last supreme moment together, for after tonight -some woman must enter into Robert William Thomas' life and Bob Sangster -could only be a partner in his godson's love. He recalled that the baby's -mother had told The Worst Bad Man they had “kin” in New Jerusalem, and -Bob Sangster wondered if she had intended that he should turn the baby -over to them. The thought appalled him, and his hot tears fell fast on -the little white face as he staggered down the grade into New Jerusalem. - -“I won't give you up,” he gibbered, “I won't. You're mine. Your mother -give you to me to raise like a man, an' I'm a-goin' to do it. You're -my kid an' you're named after us three. No, no, I won't. I've died ten -thousand deaths for you--I'll work an' I'll hire a woman----” - -Fifteen minutes later a battered, bleeding, raving wreck of a man, who -hugged a bundle to his great breast, reeled into New Jerusalem and -paused in front of a hurdy-gurdy. From within came the plaintive notes -of a melodeon, and a woman--a Mary Magdalen--was singing: - -_Jerusalem, Jerusalem, lift up your gates and sing,_ - -_Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna to your King!_ - -Bob Sangster made his uncertain way to the woman at the melodeon and -held a bundle toward her. - -“What's this?” she demanded. The last of the godfathers gobbled and -mumbled, but the words refused to come. How could the woman know what -he was trying to say? - -She unwrapped the bundle and gazed down at Robert William Thomas -Sangster. - -Who knows? Perhaps in that moment the woman, too, like The Three Bad -Men, beheld The King! - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Godfathers, by Peter B. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/51942-0.zip b/old/51942-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f513e58..0000000 --- a/old/51942-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51942-h.zip b/old/51942-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index eb48969..0000000 --- a/old/51942-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51942-h/51942-h.htm b/old/51942-h/51942-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index b06c577..0000000 --- a/old/51942-h/51942-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2367 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <title> - The Three Godfathers, by Peter B. Kyne - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} - .x-small {font-size: 75%;} - .small {font-size: 85%;} - .large {font-size: 115%;} - .x-large {font-size: 130%;} - .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} - .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} - .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} - .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} - .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} - .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; - font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; - text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; - border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Godfathers, by Peter B. Kyne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Three Godfathers - -Author: Peter B. Kyne - -Illustrator: Dean Cornwell - -Release Date: May 2, 2016 [EBook #51942] -Last Updated: March 12, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE GODFATHERS *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - THE THREE GODFATHERS - </h1> - <h2> - By Peter B. Kyne - </h2> - <h3> - Illustrated By Dean Cornwell - </h3> - <h4> - Cosmopolitan Book Corporation, New York - </h4> - <h3> - 1913 - </h3> - <p> - <br /> <br /> - </p> - <p> - <i>Is the story of The Three Bad Men—-not The Three Wise Men “What's - a godfather, Bill?” The Youngest Bad Man inquired. “What job does he hold - down?”</i> - </p> - <p> - <i>“You're an awful ignorant young man, Bob,” replied The Wounded Bad Man - reproachfully. “A godfather is a sort of reserve parent who promises to - renounce the devil with all his works an' pomps.”</i> - </p> - <p> - <i>The Youngest Bad Man smiled wanly. “Well, Bill, all I got to say is - that us three're a lovely bunch o' godfathers.”</i> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0008.jpg" alt="0008 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0008.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0009.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /> <br /> <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - THE THREE GODFATHERS - </h2> - <p> - |THE daylight raid on the Wicken-burg National Bank had not been a - success. It had been well planned, boldly and cleverly executed, and the - four bandits had gathered unto themselves quite a fortune in paper money; - the job had been singularly free from fuss and feathers. Nevertheless, as - has already been stated, the raid was not a success. The assistant - cashier, returning from luncheon, had, from a distance of half a block, - observed two strangers in town. Both strangers were mounted and stood on - guard in front of the Wickenburg National. In an alley just back of the - bank two saddle horses were standing; and as the assistant cashier paused, - irresolute, two men came out of the bank, mounted the two horses waiting - in the alley, and, followed by the men who had been standing on watch in - front of the bank, rode out of Wickenburg in rather a suspicious hurry. - The assistant cashier had an inspiration. - </p> - <p> - “Thieves! Robbers! Stop 'em!” he yelled. - </p> - <p> - His hue and cry aroused to action an apparently inoffensive and elderly - citizen who was taking his siesta in front of The Three Deuces saloon. Now - this man in front of The Three Deuces was not the sheriff. He was not even - the city marshal. Rather he inclined one to the belief that he might be a - minister of the gospel—a soul-trapper on guard at the portals of The - Three Deuces, within which, judging by the subdued rattle of poker chips, - ivory balls and an occasional hoarse shout of “Keno!” one could be - reasonably certain of a plethora of brands ripe for the burning. The aged - citizen asleep in the chair outside was arrayed in somber black, with a - turn-down collar and white lawn tie, a “biled” shirt with a ruby stud in - it, and patriarchial white whiskers. But his coat, of a clerical cut, - effectually concealed two pieces of artillery of a style and caliber - popularized by time and tradition in the fair state of Arizona. - </p> - <p> - The four galloping horsemen were abreast The Three Deuces when the cry of - “Robbers!” aroused all Wickenburg. It awoke the man in the chair; and he - came to his feet with the suddenness of a ferocious old dog, filled both - hands and cut loose at one of the four horsemen. There was a reason for - this. The elderly citizen had a deposit of three dollars and seventeen - cents in the Wickenburg National. Also he possessed a fair proportion of - civic pride, and the horseman upon whom he trained his hardware was - carrying a gunny-sack containing a pro rata of the said elderly citizen's - three-seventeen. - </p> - <p> - Four Bad Men had ridden into Wickenburg that December afternoon, but only - three rode out. One of the three had a bullet hole through his left - shoulder. The man who stayed lay, thoroughly and effectually defunct, on - top of a bulging gunny-sack in front of The Three Deuces. Came presently - the paying teller of the Wicken-burg National and removed the gunny-sack. - Came half an hour later the coroner of Wickenburg and removed the body. As - for the elderly citizen of deceptive appearance, he walked uptown to a - hardware store, replenished his supply of ammunition and returned to The - Three Deuces in a highly cheerful frame of mind. Here let us leave him, - for with this story he has nothing further to do. From now on our interest - must center on The Three Bad Men who rode out of Wickenburg headed for the - California line—which happens to be the Colorado River. - </p> - <p> - They made their first halt at Granite Tanks, twenty-five miles from - Wickenburg. Here they watered their horses and then pressed onward toward - the river. At the river they found a boat, thoughtfully provided for just - such an emergency as the present. - </p> - <p> - Darkness had already settled over the land when The Three Bad Men came to - the Colorado River. It would have been wise on their part to have waited - until the rising of the moon, but our story does not deal with The Three - Wise Men. Within the hour a posse might appear, and, moreover, The Three - Bad Men were of that breed that prefers to “take a chance.” They rode - their jaded horses into the flood until the yellow waters lapped their - bellies; then they shot them and shoved the carcasses off into the - current. - </p> - <p> - An hour later The Three Bad Men landed on the California side near Bill - Williams Mountain, filled their boat with stones and sank it, and - shouldering a supply of food and water sufficient to last them four days, - headed up a long box canon that led north to the Colorado Desert. They - made fair time after the moon came up. All night long they trudged through - the box canon, and at daylight it opened out into the waste. - </p> - <p> - “Well, boys, I guess we're safe.” remarked The Worst Bad Man, who was the - leader of the trio. “It's cooler in the canon, so suppose we camp here. I - feel like breakfast and some sleep. How's your shoulder, Bill?” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man shrugged the wounded member disdainfully. - </p> - <p> - “High up. Missed the bone and don't amount to much, Tom. But I've bled - like a stuck pig and it's weakened me a little.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll heat some water and wash it up, Bill,” said The Youngest Bad Man, - much concerned. - </p> - <p> - They made a very small fire of cat-claw and ironwood, brewed a pot of - coffee, breakfasted, washed and dressed The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder and - slept until late afternoon. They awoke much refreshed, ate an early supper - and struck out across the desert to the north, where in time they would - come to the Santa Fe tracks. There were lonely stations out there in the - sands—they might be worth investigation. Then on to the new mining - camp at Old Woman Mountain—a camp which, following the whimsical and - fantastic system of desert nomenclature, which seems to trend toward such - names as Mecca, Cadiz. Bagdad, Bengal and Siam, had had bestowed upon it - the not inappropriate name of New Jerusalem. - </p> - <p> - For a number of reasons The Three Bad Men preferred to travel by night. - Primarily they were prowlers and preferred it. Secondly, although one may - encounter torrid weather by day on the Colorado Desert even in December, - the nights, on the contrary, are bitterly cold—and The Three Bad Men - had no blankets. Also there was this advantage about traveling at night - and sleeping in the shadow of a rock by day: they would not meet other - wanderers and there would he no embarrassing questions to answer - respecting the hole in The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder. - </p> - <p> - Consequently The Three Bad Men traveled by night. From Mojave Tanks they - swung west to avoid the mining operations there, although more than once - they glanced back wistfully at the little cluster of yellow lights shining - across the sands. The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder was in a bad way and - needed medical attention. Also they needed water; but they were - desert-bred and could last until they came to Malapai Springs. - </p> - <p> - So they turned their backs on Mojave Tanks and tramped onward. Now they - were in the ghostly moonlight of the open desert, with the outlines of the - mountain ranges on each side looming dim and shadowy fifteen or twenty - miles away; now they were picking their way carefully through clusters of - murderous catclaw, through tangles of mesquit and ironwood. Up dark, - lonely arroyos they went; down long alleys between the outstretched arms - of the ocatillas with their pendulous, blood-red blossoms, passing dried, - withered Joshua trees twisted into fantastic shapes as if their fearful - surroundings had caused them to writhe in horror; through solitude and - desolation so vast and profound as to inspire one with the thought that - the Creator, appalled at the magnitude of this abortion of Nature, had set - it apart as an eternal heritage of the damned. - </p> - <p> - In the forenoon of the fifth day they came to Malapai Springs. Here The - Three Bad Men drank deeply, bathed, filled their canteens and stepped - blithely out for Terrapin Tanks, the next water-hole—a little-known - and consequently unfrequented spot—where they could rest for a few - days before attempting the last desperate leg of their journey to the - railroad. - </p> - <p> - “Don't stint yourself on the water. Bill,” The Worst Bad Man advised as - they departed from Malapai Springs. “There's always water at Terrapin - Tanks.” Nevertheless, with the instinct of the desert-bred, The Worst Bad - Man and The Youngest Bad Man were sparing with the water themselves, - although careful to conceal this fact from The Wounded Bad Man. The - latter's shoulder was swollen and inflamed, and it was a relief to him if - the bandages were kept wet. - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man, who knew the country better than his companions, had - timed their arrival at Terrapin Tanks almost to the hour. The sun was just - coming up over the low red hummocks of hematite to the eastward when The - Three Bad Men plodded wearily up a long, dry canon, turned a sharp, rocky - promontory into an arroyo—and paused. - </p> - <p> - Borne on the slight desert breeze a sound came to them from up the arroyo. - It was a mournful, wailing cry and ended in a sob—a sound that - bespoke pain and fear and misery. - </p> - <p> - The Three Bad Men looked at one another. Each held up an index finger, - enjoining silence. A second, a third time the sound was repeated. - </p> - <p> - “It's a human voice,” announced The Worst Bad Man, “an' there's death in - it. Wait here. I'm goin' in to see what's up.” - </p> - <p> - When he had gone The Youngest Bad Man, after the restless and inquisitive - manner of youth, climbed a tall rock and gazed up the arroyo. - </p> - <p> - “I see the top of a covered wagon,” he announced. - </p> - <p> - “Then,” said The Wounded Bad Man, “It's a tenderfoot outfit, an' that's a - woman cryin'. No desert rat'd come here with a wagon. Fools drive in where - burros fear to tread. Bob. They're tenderfeet.” - </p> - <p> - “That's right,” agreed The Youngest Bad Man. “Some nester come in over the - trail from Imperial Valley and bound for New Jerusalem, I'll bet a new - hat.” - </p> - <p> - “Whoever's doin' that whimperin' is sure bound for New Jerusalem,” The - Wounded Bad Man replied with a grim attempt at humor. “An' if I don't let - a doctor look at this shoulder o' mine before long I'll head that way - myself.” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man was gone about ten minutes. Presently the others saw him - returning. On his hard, sunscorched face deep concern showed plainly, and - as he trotted down the arroyo he scratched his unkempt head as if in - search of an idea of sufficient magnitude to cope with a grave situation. - When he reached his comrades he sat down on a chunk of black lava and - fanned himself with his hat. - </p> - <p> - “There's a line old state of affairs at the Tanks,” he said huskily. - </p> - <p> - “They ain't dry, are they?” Fright showed in the wide blue eyes of The - Youngest Bad Man. The Wounded Bad Man sat down very suddenly and gulped. - The Worst Bad Man replied to the question. - </p> - <p> - “Worse'n that.” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man sighed. “It can't be,” he said. - </p> - <p> - “There's a wagon at the Tanks,” continued The Worst Bad Man, “but no - horses. It's a tenderfoot outfit—a man an' his woman—an' they - come in from Salton, via Canon Springs and Boulder, headed for New - Jerusalem. Some o' their kin has started a boardin' tent in the new camp - an' these two misfortunates were aimin' to go in with the rush an' clean - up a stake. They make Terrapin Tanks all right, but the water's a little - low an' the man ain't got sense enough to dig out the sand an' let the - water run in. He's one of these nervous city fellers, I guess, and it just - naturally hurts him to set down an' wait till that sump-hole fills up. - Besides, he don't take kindly to usin' a shovel, so he sticks in a shot o' - dynamite to clean out th' tanks an' start the water runnin'——” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man sprang to his feet, cursing horribly. - </p> - <p> - “The damned, crazy fool!” he raved. “I'll kill him, I will. I'll kill him - just as sure as I'm thirsty.” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man paid no attention to the other's outburst. - </p> - <p> - “So he stuck in his stick o' dynamite an' it's only a fool's luck he - didn't blow himself up doin' it. I wisht he had; but he didn't. He just - put Terrapin Tanks out o' business forever—cracked the granite floor - o' that sump-hole an' busted down the sides, an' the water's run out into - the sand an' the tanks run dry. They'll stay dry. We can have cloudbursts - in this country from now until I get religion, but them tanks'll never - hold another drop o' water. That fool tenderfoot's dead, I guess; but he's - goin' to keep right on killin' people just the same. Men'll keep comin' - here, bankin' on water—an' in five years there'll be a dozen - skeletons round that busted tank.” - </p> - <p> - “But all that ain't what's bitin' me half as hard as what he went an' done - next. He went an' let his stock nose round an' lick up that alkali slop - below the Tanks, an' drove 'em <i>loco</i>. They took off up the canon, - huntin' water, with Mr. Man after 'em. That was four days ago an' he ain't - come back yet; so we don't need to waste no time speculatin' on his case - an' feelin' sorry for him. It wouldn't 'a been so bad, but he went an' - left his woman alone at th' Tanks. She had a little water left, so she - wasn't so bad off until yesterday, when it give out. It's been pretty hard - on her all alone there—an' she's a nice little woman too. About - twenty, I guess, an' heaps too good for the cuss she married. But still - that ain't the worst—not by a long shot. She's goin' to have a - papoose.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>What!</i>” - </p> - <p> - “The Youngest Bad Man and The Wounded Bad Man voiced the horrified - exclamation in unison; then The Wounded Bad Man sank back against a rock. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” The Worst Bad Man affirmed huskily, “there's a baby due right soon, - I reckon. She's in a pretty bad fix. I was never married, boys, an' I - don't know what to do for her—an' she's cryin', an' prayin', and - askin' for help, an'—I—don't know——” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man choked and hid his hard face in his hands. He shook like - a hooked fish. Silence, while The Worst Bad Man fought for control of - himself. - </p> - <p> - “I'm a tough old bird,” he said presently—“I'm an awful tough old - bird; but I can't go back there alone. You've got to come with me, lads. - We got to do someth'n' for her.” - </p> - <p> - He turned hopefully to The Wounded Bad Man. - </p> - <p> - “Bill,” he said pleadingly, “you ought to know somethin' about such cases. - You do, don't you Bill? Wasn't you married to a half-breed girl down on - the Rio Colorado somewheres, an' didn't she have kids for you?” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man was on the defensive instantly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that's true,” he admitted with some, show of reluctance, “but then, - Tom, you know as well as me that Injuns is different. They ain't <i>human</i>, - an' this here's a white woman——” - </p> - <p> - “That's right.” The Youngest Bad Man out of the wisdom of his twenty-two - summers hastened to Bill's assistance. “An' child-bearin' with a white - woman means doctors an' nurses an' feather beds an' what-all.” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man flashed the youth a grateful glance. - </p> - <p> - “You bet that's right, Bob. An' besides, when that woman o' mine had them - two twins I was doin' a five year stretch in Yuma—so you can see I - don't know nothin' about it. All I know is what I've heard. She didn't - even call a neighbor's woman—just brings them twins into the world - one day, an' gets out an' hustles a livin' for 'em the next.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” retorted the bedeviled Worst Bad Man, “I wasn't tryin' to pass the - buck. Just a-ruminatin' around for information.” He rose wearily. “Come - on,” he growled, and led the way. - </p> - <p> - The Three Bad Men walked up the draw to Terrapin Tanks. In reverential awe - they stood beside the covered wagon, parted the side curtains and looked - in. - </p> - <p> - On a straw tick, covered with blankets, lay a woman. She was young, with - great brown eyes alight with fever and with the luster of approaching - motherhood. A long braid of brown hair lay across her white breast; she - moaned in her pain and terror and wretchedness. - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man found a tin cup and gave her generously of his all too - scant supply of water. The Youngest Bad Man got a clean towel out of the - tail-box, wet it and washed her burning face and hands. The Worst Bad Man, - whose courage, for all his deviltry, had its limitations, went and sat - down on the tongue of the wagon and tried to think. But scourged with the - horror of this most terrible of human travail, he fled up the arroyo out - of hearing. On the top of one of the little black volcanic hills, from - which eminence he could look down on the wagon, he stood, active, alert, - like a mountain sheep on guard, and beckoned to his friends to join him. - The Youngest Bad Man obeyed his frantic signals, but The Wounded Bad Man - stayed at the wagon. - </p> - <p> - “You've got to be easy on me, son, at a time like this,” said The Worst - Bad Man humbly. “I'm an awful tough old bird, but I can't stand that. It - ain't no place for the likes o' me. What's to be done?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothin' much, I guess.” The Youngest Bad Man threw out his hands in - desperation. “Bill says she ain't got a chance.” - </p> - <p> - He took his canteen in both hands and shook it gently; seeing which The - Worst Bad Man did the same with his. - </p> - <p> - “How much has Bill got left?” he asked anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “Nary drop. He's been right feverish along o' that hole in his wing, an' - hittin' his canteen heavy, expectin' to find water in the Tanks.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we got about two gallons left,” announced The Worst Bad Man - philosophically, “but I see us cuttin' niggerhead cactus before we hit - another tank. Once in San Berdoo I heard a sky-pilot preachin', an' he - 'lowed that the way o' the transgressor's bound to be hard; but I'm dogged - if I looked for anythin' half as hard as this. Bill's callin' you, son. - Better lope back to the wagon. I'll—I—guess I'll wait here.” - </p> - <p> - He waited half an hour, watching with anxious and paternal eyes the - activities of his fellows at the wagon. Once the sounds of woe drifted up - to him and he moved farther up the canon. Here he waited, and presently - The Wounded Bad Man joined him. - </p> - <p> - “What luck, Bill?” he demanded. - </p> - <p> - “A boy,” responded The Wounded Bad Man. “Come on down an' look at him, - Tom. He's worth it. He's man size.” - </p> - <p> - “How about that misfortunate girl?” - </p> - <p> - “She ain't a-goin' to last long, Tom. She's a-goin' fast, an' she wants to - see you—all of us—together. She's quiet now.” - </p> - <p> - Thus reassured, The Worst Bad Man returned with The Wounded Bad Man to the - Tanks. With uncovered head he approached the wagon, dreading to gaze upon - that tragic face, drawn with agony. But lo! as he parted the curtains he - gazed upon the miracle of motherhood. Gone were the lines of suffering; - the girl's face was transfigured with the light of that joy and peace and - pride that God gives to new-made mothers, and for the first time in all - his hard life The Worst Bad Man was permitted to glimpse something of the - glory of his Creator. - </p> - <p> - The babe, wrapped in a coarse crash towel, lay in the hollow of the little - mother's arm, its red, puckered little face rested on her snowy bosom, the - while she gazed downward at her treasure. It came to The Worst Bad Man - very suddenly that once upon a time a woman had gazed upon him with that - same look of yearning and joy ineffable; and with the thought he reached - for the mother's left hand and carried it to his cracked and blistered - lips. He spoke no word, but as he bowed his reckless head reverently over - that fevered hand he seemed to cry aloud: - </p> - <p> - “Here is my wasted and worthless life. I offer it in exchange for yours.” - </p> - <p> - The girl mother's calm, benevolent eyes beamed their gratitude. She - understood, and like a true mother she accepted his tribute—only the - sacrifice could not be for her. - </p> - <p> - “What is your name?” she asked wearily. - </p> - <p> - “Tom Gibbons.” - </p> - <p> - “And yours?” turning to The Wounded Bad Man. - </p> - <p> - “Bill Kearny.” - </p> - <p> - She glanced inquiringly at The Youngest Bad Man. - </p> - <p> - “Bob Sangster,” he replied. - </p> - <p> - “Will you save my baby?” Slowly, searchingly, the wonderful eyes - confronted each Bad Man in turn. - </p> - <p> - “I'll save him,” promised The Youngest Bad Man. With all the rashness, the - unthinking, unreasoning confidence and generosity of youth, he passed his - word. He recked not of the long trail ahead with death for the pacemaker. - He only knew that this woman of sorrow had gazed longest upon him, - estimating the strength in his lithe, big body, searching for his manhood - in the face where sin had not yet laid its devastating hand. So he passed - his word, and passing it in all the regal simplicity of the brave, the - mother knew that he would keep it. - </p> - <p> - “I'll help,” croaked The Wounded Bad Man humbly. He glanced at The Worst - Bad Man, who bowed his head once more over the little hand. - </p> - <p> - “I'll help too.” - </p> - <p> - “I want you—all of you—to be my baby's godfathers. Poor little - son! He'll be all alone in this big world when his mamma leaves him, and - he's going to miss her so. Aren't you, sweetheart? Nobody to tuck you into - bed at night, nobody to teach you your prayers, nobody to kiss the little - sore spots when you fall and hurt yourself, nobody to tell your little - secrets to——” - </p> - <p> - She closed her eyes. A tear stole through between the long lashes, and The - Wounded Bad Man turned away. The Youngest Bad Man went and sat down on the - wagon tongue and wept, for he was young. Only The Worst Bad Man stayed, - watching, waiting. And presently the mother spoke again. - </p> - <p> - “Are you all here? It's getting dark—and we must be moving on—to - the next waterhole. You—Bob Sangster—take baby. You said you'd - save him—didn't you? And Bill Kearny—and—Tom—Gibbons—will - you be his godfathers—and—help—Bob—Sangster—on - the—trail? Will you?. Promise—me—again—and... his - name?... Call him Robert—William—Thomas—Sangster... and - when he's—a fine—big—brave man—like his—godfathers—you'll - tell—him—about his little mother who—wanted to live—for - him so.... Lift him up—godfathers—and let me—kiss my—baby.” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man waited until the last fluttering little sigh was - finished before he removed the infant. The Wounded Bad Man closed the - mother's eyes and folded her hands across her pulseless breast. The - Youngest Bad Man stood, grasping the brake-rod until his knuckles showed - white with the strain of the grip. Long he stood there, gazing at that - calm, spiritual face with its halo of glistening brown hair, pondering - deeply on the mysteries of birth and life and death. To him it all seemed - a monstrous thing; and when The Worst Bad Man came to him with a shovel he - wept aloud. - </p> - <p> - “Death is a terrible thing, Tom,” he sobbed. - </p> - <p> - “Life's worse,” said The Wounded Bad Man gently. He was seated apart, with - the baby in his arms, shielding it from the sun with his broad sombrero. - “Death can only get you once, but Life is a ghost dance. I wonder what it - has in store for you, kidlets. I wonder.” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man departed down the arroyo with the shovel and The - Worst Bad Man, discovering a hammer and nails in the toolbox under the - scat, removed the side boards and some strips from the wagon bed and fell - briskly to work. When The Wounded Bad Man had satisfied himself that The - Youngest Bad Man was nor within hearing, he spoke: - </p> - <p> - “I say, Tom. Did you notice her when she asked us to save the baby? She - picked on Bob. Seems as if she knew.” - </p> - <p> - “I noticed. I guess she knew. They say angels always does know. It's - forty-five miles to New Jerusalem, Bill, and you can't make it, and I'm—I'm - too old for a long stretch without water.” - </p> - <p> - “That's why I said I'd help.” - </p> - <p> - “Same here.” - </p> - <p> - “We've got to do the first two heats, Tom. We've got to save young Bob's - strength for the final dash. I'll carry the baby an' you carry the grub - an' things tonight, an' tomorrow night——” - </p> - <p> - “I'll carry everything tomorrow night; after that it'll be up to Bob. He's - young and hard and game. He ought to make it.” - </p> - <p> - Late in the afternoon, with clumsy tenderness they buried the martyred - mother there by the Terrapin Tanks, built a cairn over the grave and - crowned it with a cross. Then they returned to the dismantled wagon to - hold a consultation. - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man was the first to broach the subject closest to the - hearts of all three. - </p> - <p> - With characteristic directness he shot his query at them. All his wicked - life he had been facing desperate issues; long since he had learned to - face them unblinkingly. - </p> - <p> - “Robert William Thomas's got to have a bath, ain't he?” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man took hold of the brake rod again and steadied - himself. The Worst Bad Man looked at the wounded godfather in vague - surprise. - </p> - <p> - “I never figgered on that at all,” he said simply. “I was thinkin' about - how we're to feed him. I'm for tubbin' him all right, but——” - </p> - <p> - He held up the two canteens. His pause was eloquent. - </p> - <p> - “But he's such a little feller it won't take much,” protested The Wounded - Bad Man. “He'll fit nice in a dishpan.” - </p> - <p> - “I wish he was old enough to stagger along a few days without bathin',” - mourned The Youngest Bad Man. “Maybe he can. I don't know a thing about - infants; but if he must be bathed, why I guess we'd better——” - </p> - <p> - “I 'lowed to ask his mother a few questions regardin' his up-keep and - what-all,” interrupted The Wounded Bad Man apologetically, “but I clean - forgot.” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man wagged his head as if to convey the impression that this - was a pardonable oversight indeed. He was thinking. - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0008.jpg" alt="0008 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0008.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “It stands to reason,” he announced presently, “that this infant's mother - naturally made some provision for his reception into camp. It's my opinion - that gettin' a bath is the least o' the troubles confrontin' our godson. - He's just naturally got to eat, an' wear somethin' better'n a towel - that'll plum scratch the hide off'n him. There ought to be somethin' for - Robert boy in that tail-box.” - </p> - <p> - So they searched the tailbox and discovered many things—condensed - milk, a carton of soda crackers, a quart bottle of olive oil, a feeding - bottle, two “bluffers” with real ivory rings, and an assortment of baby - clothes, many of them hemstitched and worked through long months of loving - anticipation. The silence was pregnant of tears as The Worst Bad Man held - up a wee woolen undershirt and two little stockings that might have been - cut from the index fingers of a pair of woolen mittens. The trio surveyed - them wonderingly before returning to the search of the tailbox. - </p> - <p> - “Ah, here we are, Tom, all fine and dandy,” announced The Wounded Bad Man, - fishing up a book from the recesses of the tailbox. “'Doctor Meecham on - Carin' for the Baby.' Let's see what the doc has to say about it.” - </p> - <p> - “Here's another,” said The Worst Bad Man, picking up another book and - skimming through the first few pages, “but it don't say nothin' about——It's - a Bible!” - </p> - <p> - He tossed it from him contemptuously, and The Youngest Bad Man, still - under the spell of his youth and its resultant curiosity, retrieved the - Bible. The Worst Bad Man, in the mean time, peered over the shoulder of - The Wounded Bad Man. - </p> - <p> - “Turn to the part on bathin' the baby, Bill,” he commanded. - </p> - <p> - “Hum! Ah-hem! Let me see. All right, Tom.” - </p> - <p> - “Bathin' the Baby—Too much care cannot be exercised in performin' - this most important part of the baby's toilette——” - </p> - <p> - “What in blazes is a toilette?” demanded The Worst Bad Man. The Wounded - </p> - <p> - Ban Man thereupon looked into the tailbox as if in search of it. - </p> - <p> - “I guess our baby ain't got no toilette in his war bags,” he replied - sadly. “A toilette,” he continued, “is a little green tin bathtub about as - long as my arm. Cost about <i>dos pesos</i> in any hardware store.” - </p> - <p> - “You—Bob. You hear that?” admonished The Worst Bad Man. “When you - get to New Jerusalem, you send out to Dan-by first-off an' round up the - best toilette money can buy. Remember that, Bob. Crack right along. Bill. - What does the doc say next?” - </p> - <p> - “The First Bath—The first bath should not be administered until the - baby is at least three days old——” - </p> - <p> - “Bill,” said The Worst Bad Man, looking solemnly at his companion, “if I - had a sick tomcat I wouldn't send for Doc Meecham. Three days without a - bath! That's all right when the boy's a grown-up an' ain't supposed to - bathe between waterholes when he's in the desert, or every Saturday night - when he's in town, but with new babies I'll lay you my silver spurs tis - different. The doc's wrong, Bill. But come again.” - </p> - <p> - Thus encouraged, The Wounded Bad Man read; - </p> - <p> - “Immediately after birth the nurse should rub the entire body with olive - oil, or, if that is not available, with some clean, pure grease or lard.” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man closed the book, but kept his finger in to mark the - place. - </p> - <p> - “It don't sound regular, Tom, I'll admit; but there's a bottle of olive - oil in the tailbox, so it looks like Robert William Thomas was due for a - greasin' up in accordance with the doctor's orders.” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man pondered. “Well, I ain't convinced nohow,” he said - presently. “This godson o' ours is startin' life slippery enough with us - for his godfathers.” He pondered a moment or two longer. “Still, it we - follow the book it may save Robert from chafin' an' gettin' saddle galls - on him. Hand over the ile, Bob, an' we'll slick the young feller up a - mite. It's just the tenderness o' hell we don't have to use axle-grease!” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man held the naked babe in his lap, across which he had - spread the towel, and The Worst Bad Man applied the oil. - </p> - <p> - “Roll him over, Bill.” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man rolled him over, and in a few minutes the task was - completed. Dressing the infant, however, was infinitely more laborious. - The godfathers, knowing something of the biting chill of the desert - nights, were grateful for the profusion of woolen clothing and delicate - woolen baby blankets which their search of the tailbox had netted, and - when in due course The Youngest Bad Man had succeeded in dressing the - infant after a nondescript fashion of his own, The Worst Bad Man corked - the olive oil bottle, wiped his hands on his trousers, and beamed with the - consciousness of a duty well performed. - </p> - <p> - Next, The Wounded Bad Man ran his horny thumb down the index of Doctor - Meecham on Caring for the Baby, until he came to the chapter entitled: - “Feeding the Baby.” This chapter he real aloud. - </p> - <p> - “This is comfortin',” he remarked, turning down the leaf to mark the page. - “Doctor Meecham says that there's times when a baby won't thrive on - nothin' else but condensed milk. We got plenty o' that.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, an' we can maul up some o' them sody crackers an' make some pap for - him,” replied The Worst Bad Man; “an' in a pinch we can bile him a pot o' - gruel.” - </p> - <p> - “We'll need water for that, Tom,” The Wounded Bad Man reminded him; “an' - we'll need water to dilute this here condensed milk an' warm it up for the - feedin' bottle. I 'low some of the godfathers's goin' to suck niggerhead - cactus enough to do 'em quite a spell before they hit New Jerusalem.” - </p> - <p> - “That's right,” The Worst Bad Man replied gravely; “Robert William - Thomas's got to have the water, an' Jerusalem's the nearest camp, an' it's - about forty-five mile as the crow flies. Malapa; Springs is back there - thirty-odd mile, though——” - </p> - <p> - “There ain't no women at Malapai Springs,” retorted The Wounded Bad Man - pointedly, “and we can't fool no time in the desert with this infant. It's - up to us to hike—an' hike lively—to New Jerusalem. We've got - six cans o' condensed milk, an' we can't get morn't three shots o' milk - from each can. It's going to spoil quick after it's opened. Besides, if we——” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man had just been the recipient of a serious thought. He - hastened to get it off his mind. Boylike he interrupted and rose to a - question of information. - </p> - <p> - “What's a godfather, Bill? What job does he hold down?” - </p> - <p> - “You're an awful ignorant young man, Bob,” replied The Wounded Bad Man - reproachfully. “You been raised out in the woods somewheres? A godfather, - Bob, is a sort of reserve parent. When a kid is baptized there's a - godfather an' a godmother present, an' for an' on behalf o' the kid they - promise the preacher, just the same as the kid would if he could only - talk, to renounce the devil with all his works an' pomps——” - </p> - <p> - “What's his works and pumps?” demanded The Youngest Bad Man. - </p> - <p> - “Well—robbin' banks an' shootin' up deputy sheriffs, et cetry, et - cetry.” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man smiled wanly. “Well, Bill, all I got to say is that - us three're a lovely bunch o' godfathers. Best thing we can do is to shunt - the job to a godmother.” - </p> - <p> - “But there ain't no godmother,” said The Worst Bad Man sadly. “It's up to - us. She”—he jerked an oily thumb toward the little mound of sand and - rock—“she said somethin' about teachin' him his prayers an' bringin' - h'm up a big, brave, strong man—like—like his godfathers.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that's part of the job, too,” The Wounded Bad Man informed them. “I - went to a Sunday-school when I was a kid, an' I know what I'm talkin' - about. A godfather's got to keep his eye peeled an' see that his godchild - gets a reeligious education.” - </p> - <p> - “Then,” said The Youngest Bad Man, “I reckon we'd better tote along this - here Bible. I just come across somethin' interestin'. It's about Jesus - Christ ridin' into Jerusalem. Listen:” - </p> - <p> - And The Youngest Bad Man proceeded to read from the Gospel according to - St. Matthew: - </p> - <p> - “And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, and were come to Bethphage, unto - the Mount of Olives, then sent Jesus two disciples, Saying unto them, Go - into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass - tied, and a colt with her: loose them, and bring them unto me. And if any - man say ought unto you, ye shall say, The Lord hath need of them; and - straightway he will send them.” - </p> - <p> - “Rot!” snapped The Worst Bad Man. “I don't believe a word of it. You try - swipin' a man's jacks, with or without a colt, in this country, an' see - what happens if you say the Lord hath need of them. The Lord won't save - you nohow. But cut out this religious talk, Bob, an' rustle up some - sagebrush for a fire. We'll heat some of this airtight milk and feed our - godson before we leave.” - </p> - <p> - The fire was lit forthwith, and the condensed milk prepared according to - the instructions laid down by Doctor Meecham. The Worst Bad Man poured the - water, while the other two godfathers guarded jealously every drop. He - heated the mixture to the proper temperature, warmed the feeding bottle in - it and then filled the bottle. The Wounded Bad Man sat with the baby in - his lap and pressed the feeding bottle to the little stranger's lips. - </p> - <p> - It was an anxious moment to the three godfathers. Would he or would he not - “take hold?” He did, promptly, with a gusto that brought a howl of delight - from The Worst Bad Man. - </p> - <p> - “I sure do admire to see the way that young feller adapts himself to - conditions.” said The Wounded Bad Man proudly. - </p> - <p> - “Hops right to it, like a drunkard to a Fourth of July barbecue,” said The - Youngest Bad Man. “He'll do.” There was all the pride of fatherhood in the - boy's tones. “Game little pup, ain't he?” - </p> - <p> - “His poor little ma was game,” remarked The Worst Bad Man “He comes by it - natural. I wonder what kind of a coyote his old man was. It'd sure be a - sin if this boy grew up to be as big a fool as his father. I'd turn over - in my grave.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that's up to the last of the godfathers,” said The Wounded Bad Man. - “Mind you learn him hoss-sense, Bob. Don't let him grow up to wear - eyeglasses before he's twenty-one years old, an' make him say 'sir' when - he speaks to you. Teach him hoss-sense and respect, Bob. Them's the two - great requirements to a man's education.” - </p> - <p> - “The way he's downin' his provender,” The Worst Bad Man remarked, “he'll - be full up in five minutes and want to go to sleep. It's too hot to resk - him out just now, an' Doc Meecham says he's go to be fed every four hours. - We'll set up the drinks to Robert agin at four o'clock, an' then we'll git - out o' this hole a-flyin'. Pendin' our departure, Bob, my son, you pull - off to one side an' study all that Doctor Meecham has to say about carin' - for the baby. - </p> - <p> - “Knowledge ain't so awful heavy, my son, when you carry it in your head, - an' this Doc Meecham book weighs more'n two pounds. Bill'll take a little - sleep, an' I'll keep the flies off'n him an' the infant.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - It was almost sun-down when the three godfathers left Terrapin Tanks with - their godson and struck off through the low black hills toward the - northeast. A cold night wind was springing up, and to the thirsty - godfathers, not one of whom had tasted water since sun-up that morning, - the cool breeze was refreshing. - </p> - <p> - Up the wild, lonely draws they trudged, the sleeping infant, wrapped in a - double blanket, reposing in the hollow of The Wounded Bad Man's sound arm. - The man's face was drawn and very haggard, and he staggered slightly from - weakness once or twice in spots where the trail was rough. The Youngest - Bad Man, following at his heels, was quick to notice this. - </p> - <p> - “Here, I ain't carryin' an ounce o' weight,” he expostulated. “Bill's - carryin' th' water an' the airtight milk an' the feedin' bottle an' the - camp kettle and our grub, an' you're carryin' the baby an' a bundle of - extra clothes. Lemme spell you a few miles, Bill. You're in bad shape with - that sore shoulder, an' you're goin' to wear yourself out too soon.” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man shook his head. “I'll carry him as far as I can while - I got the strength to do it. I ain't carryin' more'n fifteen pounds, but - it'll be enough for you before you get to New Jerusalem.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, ain't you comin' with us?” demanded The Youngest Bad Man. - </p> - <p> - “No,” The Wounded Bad Man retorted firmly, “I ain't.” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man turned in the trail, unscrewed the cap of the canteen - and held the canteen toward the Wounded Bad Man. - </p> - <p> - “I think we can spare just one mouthful, Bill,” he said kindly. “You bein' - hit through the shoulder that-a-way, naturally we don't hold you so rigid - to the rule.” - </p> - <p> - The Wounded Bad Man had been nuzzling the baby's forehead with the tip of - his great sunburnt nose. Now he raised his head quickly and his face was - terrible to behold. - </p> - <p> - “I've done a heap o' ornery things in my day,” he growled, “but I ain't - stealin' the water that belongs to my godson. Don't you insult me no more, - Tom Gibbons.” - </p> - <p> - “That reminds me,” remarked The Worst Bad Man affably, “you're carryin' - some extra weight.” - </p> - <p> - He reached forward, unbuckled The Wounded Bad Man's belt, with its forty - rounds of pistol cartridge and the heavy revolver, and tossed it into the - greasewood. - </p> - <p> - “That helps some!” The Wounded Bad Man growled out the words again. - </p> - <p> - They walked on in silence hour after hour. Presently as they trudged along - The Worst Bad Man began lighting matches. - </p> - <p> - “Nine o'clock,” he announced. “Third drink-time for Robert William Thomas. - We'll make a dry camp an' heat some more milk—listen!” - </p> - <p> - From a draw to the right there came, borne on the night wind, the sound of - savage growling and yelping, as of dogs quarreling ever a bone. - </p> - <p> - “Coyotes,” The Youngest Bad Man elucidated. “They got somethin'.” - </p> - <p> - “Move along out o' here,” cried The Wounded Bad Man irritably. “I don't - want to listen to that. They'll get me soon enough.” - </p> - <p> - They moved farther up the draw and camped for half an hour. Again The - Wounded Bad Man fed the baby, and once more they swung away on their sorry - road to New Jerusalem. Toward morning the baby awoke and whimpered, and - The Wounded Bad Man, who never once during the long night had relinquished - his trust, sought to soothe it with song.= - </p> - <p> - ```Oh, Ella Ree, so kind an” true, - </p> - <p> - ````In th' little churchyard lies. - </p> - <p> - ```Her grave is bright with drops o' dew, - </p> - <p> - ````But brighter were her eyes.= - </p> - <p> - ```Then carry me back to Tennessee, - </p> - <p> - ````There let me——= - </p> - <p> - It was a melody of his childhood. His mother had sung it to him in the old - lost days of his youth and innocence, and the plaintive ballad came - cracked and quavering through lips swollen with suffering. It was a - mournful song, but it seemed appropriate, for The Wounded Bad Man was - thinking of the little mother away off there in the silence at Terrapin - Tanks. Whether from this or physical inability to proceed farther, his - voice broke in the second line of the chorus. - </p> - <p> - “Dog my cats,” he gasped feebly, “I can't sing a lick no more!” - </p> - <p> - “I'll sing for him,” volunteered The Youngest Bad Man; “I'l give him 'The - Yeller Rose o' Texas'.” - </p> - <p> - They made fifteen miles that first night, and at sun-up they emerged from - the black volcanic hills out on to a great, white, shimmering, dry salt - lake. A mile away a little cabin, dazzling white in the glint of the - rising sun, flared against the horizon, and far to the northeast the Witch - of Old Woman Mountain sat watching them. - </p> - <p> - “Over there on the southeast spur of Old Woman you'll find New Jerusalem, - Bob,” The Worst Bad Man explained. “That mountain with the rocky crest - that looks like a witch in profile—that's Old Woman Mountain. Watch - the Witch, Bob, an' you'll get there.” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man nodded. “We can't carry the baby in this heat,” he - reminded them. “Hand him over, Bill, and I'll just buck-jump along to that - little cabin an' hole up with him till you an' Tom catch up.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll carry him,” The Wounded Bad Man retorted doggedly. - </p> - <p> - “You'll not.” The Youngest Bad Man was aroused. “You're dyin' on your - feet, Bill Kearny, an' I ain't goin' to see you stand by an' fall with my - godson an' hurt him maybe. Come across with him.” - </p> - <p> - Reluctantly The Wounded Bad Man surrendered the child to The Youngest Bad - Man. The latter was drawn and weary himself, but he had what neither of - his comrades possessed—he had glorious Youth. He would still be on - his feet and traveling with his godson when the coyotes would be - quarreling over the others. He trotted off now, in a hurry to reach the - lone cabin before the heat became too oppressive. - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man looked after him enviously. “What a man!” he muttered. - “Lean an' long an' tough. If we strike some niggerhead cactus he'll get - through. He can last two days more.” - </p> - <p> - “But I don't see no niggerhead cactus,” complained The Wounded Bad Man. - “It's ten miles across this salt lake, an'——” - </p> - <p> - He swayed and fell on his hands and knees. The Worst Bad Man helped him - up. They stood for a moment, leaning against each other, resting; then - plodded weakly on. The Worst Bad Man was the first to speak. His tongue - was dry and swollen but he could still speak plainly. - </p> - <p> - “D'ye remember, Bill, that yarn that Bob read us outen that Bible last - night—about Christ ridin' into Jerusalem an' Him send-in' two men - over to the nearest camp for a jinny with a colt? It kinder set me - thinkin', an' I been wonderin' all night. Bill, do you believe in God?” - </p> - <p> - “I dunno,” The Wounded Bad Man replied thickly. “I usen't to, but I dunno - now'. I seen things yesterday—in that woman's eyes when she talked - about the baby not havin' anybody to teach him his prayers an' him growin' - up a fine, good man. I been wonderin', too, Tom. You don't suppose, Tom, - that the Bible's wrong and that Christ sent three disciples instead o' - two?” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “Because,”—The Wounded Bad Man paused and looked at his companion - very impressively—“I kinder feel like me an' you an' Bob was - disciples—since I seen that girl an' held that little mite of a kid - in my arms. I been figgerin' it out, Tom, an' I allow that Bob ought to - make Jerusalem with Robert William Thomas some time Christmas mornin'. The - thought's comforted me a heap. Somehow I sorter got the notion that there - can't no hard luck come to a Christmas baby, an' Christ just naturally - can't go back on us if we play the game fair by that kid.” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man nodded grave approval to these sentiments. The Wounded - Bad man continued: - </p> - <p> - “It sorter sets my mind back thirty-five years. My folks used to take me - to church when I was a kid. I wasn't a churchgoer by nature, but there was - one picture on the wall of that church of a naked baby lyin' in his - mother's lap, an' when the sun'd come streamin' in through them - stained-glass windows it used to light up their faces kinder beautiful. - An' yesterday mornin' when the sun”—here The Wounded Had Man - stumbled and fell once more. He picked himself up and continued wearily—“and - when the sun come streakin' over the Terrapin Tanks an' shone into that - wagon, I swear to God, Tom, it was the same two faces!” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man made no reply. Privately he was of the opinion that his - companion was delirious. The latter's next remark, however, precluded this - idea. - </p> - <p> - “We ain't done right by young Bob Sang-ster,” he complained. “We're a pair - o' hard old skunks, Tom, an' we've kinder influenced that boy. He ain't - bad. There ain't nothin' naturally crooked in Bob. He's just young, an' - thinks he's havin' adventures an' makin' a big man of himself. That job at - Wickenburg was the first trick he ever turned. Before you boys leave me - I'm goin' to talk to Bob. I'm going to talk while I got my voice, because - by noon my tongue'll be out of kilter——” - </p> - <p> - “I'll talk to him too,” assented The Worst Bad Man eagerly. “I was - thinkin' the same thoughts as you, Bill. The last o' the godfathers can't - be no crook. Bill. He's got to do his duty by the infant.” - </p> - <p> - An hour later they arrived at the white cabin on the dry salt lake. It was - not the kind of house one sees in cities, for it was built entirely of - blocks of rock salt, of such crystal clearness that as the two godfathers - approached they could discern the vague outlines of Boh Sangster sitting - inside with the baby. The roof of the house was of canvas, sun-baked, - rotten and filled with holes. Evidently the strange habitation had been - the abode of some desert visionary, who planned to file on the salt lake - and sell his concession to the Salt Trust. - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man gave the baby into the keeping of The Wounded Bad Man - once more, while he and The Worst Bad Man busied themselves spreading the - double blanket over the ruined canvas roofing to keep out the sun. Next - they prepared some condensed milk and set the feeding bottle out in the - hot salt gravel until it should be heated to the right temperature. And - while they waited, sitting there in silence, The Wounded Bad Man leaned - back against the salt wall and closed his tired eyes. The Worst Bad Man - stooped and took the baby from him; yet he did not seem to be aware of - this action. This was a bad sign. The Youngest Bad Man shook his head - dubiously. - </p> - <p> - Presently The Wounded Bad Man spoke. His speech was very thick and - labored, like that of a paralyzed man. - </p> - <p> - “Bob,” he said, “I had somethin' to say to you, but I'm too weak to preach - now. Tom'll tell you. Got that Bible yet?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Bill, I got it.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Bob. I'm just goin' to find out if there's a God, and if there - is I guess he'll give me a square deal. I'm goin' to give Him three - chances to prove He's on the job, an' I got to win two heats out o' three - before I'll believe. Open that Bible, Bob, an' read me the very first - thing you see.” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man opened the Bible and read from the Gospel according - to St. Matthew: - </p> - <p> - “And Jesus called a little child unto Him, and set him in the midst of - them, “And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become - as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. - </p> - <p> - “Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same - is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. - </p> - <p> - “And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man closed the book. - </p> - <p> - “Open it again,” The Wounded Bad Man commanded. - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man opened it at random and read from the Gospel - according to St. Luke: - </p> - <p> - “And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If - thou be Christ, save thyself and us. - </p> - <p> - “But the other answering rebuked him, saying, “Dost not thou fear God, - seeing thou art in the same condemnation? - </p> - <p> - “And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but - this man hath done nothing amiss. - </p> - <p> - “And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy - kingdom. - </p> - <p> - “And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be - with me in paradise.” - </p> - <p> - “That'll do, Bob,” murmured The Wounded Bad Man. “I call upon you an' Tom - to witness that I receive that woman's baby—in God's name. If I - whimper for water don't give it to me. There's blood poison in my shoulder - an' arm an' I'm goin' crazy. I'm burnin' up—but it's comin' to me. - Lord, it's comin' to me. I don't complain none, Lord, an' I thank Thee for - bringin' me this far—with the little chap—for Thy sake, Lord. - Our Father, who art—who art—who art—who art—in - Heaven, blessed—I can't remember, Bob. It's a long time.... I'll try - another—” - </p> - <p> - “He's off at last,” muttered The Worst Bad Man. “It's the blood poison. - He's been dyin' since we left Malapai Springs. Listen at him, Bob. What - kind o' stuff is he talkin'?—listen!” - </p> - <p> - They bent over The Wounded Bad Man and listened intently, for it seemed to - them he was wandering far afield in his delirium. He was. Bill Kearny's - body was dying, but his soul was wandering adown the wild and checkered - path of his career to its dim and distant starting point.= - </p> - <p> - ````"Now I lay me down to sleep, - </p> - <p> - ````I pray the Lord my soul to keep. - </p> - <p> - ````If I should die before I wake, - </p> - <p> - ````I pray the Lord my soul to take."= - </p> - <p> - “God bless my father and mother and my little sister—and make me a - good boy. Amen!” - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man's face twitched a little “Good Jesus Christ!” he - murmured. The words were not a blasphemy. They fell from his blackened - lips like a benediction—in his fierce eyes a soft and human light - was beaming. “Jesus Christ <i>is</i> good. He's slippin' it easy to old - Bill. He's made him a child again.” - </p> - <p> - Throughout the long, stifling day they sat and watched him, and when he - became delirious The Youngest Bad Man took the baby in hand, in case The - Wounded Bad Man should suddenly become violent. Late in the afternoon when - the baby had been fed and wrapped again in the blanket, preparatory to - taking the trail once more, the dying godfather rolled over and opened his - eyes. They bent to hear his last message. It was almost unintelligible. - </p> - <p> - “It's a Christmas baby—it belongs—in Jerus—alem. Stick - it out to—finish—good—boys—don't let—my—godson—die—between—two—thieves——-” - </p> - <p> - They pressed his hand. The Worst Bad Man had the pack ready and slipped it - over his weary shoulders. He reached for the baby. - </p> - <p> - “Gimme the kid,” he cried thickly. “I got ten miles left in me yet. I'll - see you across the dry lake.” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man understood now. He handed over the baby, and together - the two godfathers passed out of the shack into the great salt desert... - And some time during the night the angels came and led Bill Kearny into - paradise. - </p> - <p> - After leaving the cabin The Worst Bad Man, realizing that the next ten - miles of their journey across the salt lake offered free, smooth footing, - resolved to make the pace while the “going” was good. They were no longer - hampered by being forced to suit their gait to that of Bill Kearny, and - The Worst Bad Man was resolved to see his godson safe across the dry lake - before surrendering. - </p> - <p> - He swayed considerably as he walked, but The Youngest Bad Man strode - beside him, with a hand on his arm, and helped to hold him steady. And as - they proceeded The Worst Bad Man talked to Bob Sangster. - </p> - <p> - It was a short sermon, evolved, in terse, eloquent sentences, from out the - bitterness of The Worst Bad Man's dark past and still darker future. - </p> - <p> - “Bill Kearny never went back on a pal, son, an' when I quit you I want you - to say, 'Well, Tom Gibbons, he never went back on a pal nuther.' An' when - you come to cash in, you want to have our godson say, 'An' Bob Sangster, - too—he never went back on a pal.' Cut out the crooked work, son. - Nobody has anythin' on you yet—start straight an' raise this boy - straight, an' if ever you spot him showin' signs o' breakin' away from the - reservation, just you remind him that a woman an' two men died to make a - man outer him. That's all. I ain't goin' to try to talk no more.” - </p> - <p> - At midnight The Worst Bad Man was very weak. He swayed and staggered and - stopped every few hundred yards to rest, but he would not give up the - baby. - </p> - <p> - “I'll last till sun-up,” he told himself; “I got to. I ain't the quittin' - kind.” - </p> - <p> - About two o'clock in the morning the moon came out; from somewhere in the - distance a coyote gave tongue, and The Worst Bad Man shivered a little. At - three o'clock they came out of the dry salt lake into the sands again, and - The Youngest Bad Man held out his arms for the baby. - </p> - <p> - “He needs grub mighty bad,” was what The Worst Bad Man tried to say, but - the words came only as an unintelligible mumble. There had been no sage on - the dry lake and they had been unable to make a fire. For two hours the - baby had been whimpering with hunger and cold. The Worst Bad Man slipped - out of his pack, gathered some dry sagebrush and lit a roaring fire, while - his youthful companion ministered to the baby. And when Bob Sang-ster had - finished The Worst Bad Man smoothed a two-foot area in the sand, and by - the light of the campfire he wrote with his finger the words that he could - not speak: - </p> - <p> - “You carry baby. I'm good two three miles more with pack. I leave you - twelve miles from New Jerusalem. Don't lay up today keep moving put baby - half rations savvy.” - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man nodded. When dawn began to show in the east they - resumed the journey. After the first mile, The Worst Bad Man gave signs - that the end was coming very soon. He fell more frequently, barking his - hands and knees, filling his mouth and eyes with sand, tearing his flesh - in the catclaws. Weary, monotonous gasps came from his constricted throat, - but still he staggered along, although his strength had been gone for - hours. He was traveling on his nerve now. - </p> - <p> - Slowly the dawnlight crept over the desert, softening with its magic - beauty the harsh empire of death. The Worst Bad Man saw the rosy glow - lighting up the saturnine face of the witch of Old Woman Mountain, and was - content. He had promised himself to last till dawn. He had kept his word. - </p> - <p> - He sank to his knees in the sand. Bob, Sangster stooped and lifted him to - his feet. He staggered along a few yards and fell again, and when Bob - Sangster would fain have lifted him once more, The Worst Bad Man motioned - him back with an imperious wave of his hand, for he did not want the boy - to waste his strength. He tried to protest verbally, but a horrible sound - was all that came from his swollen mouth. - </p> - <p> - The Youngest Bad Man tarried for a moment, irresolute, standing over him. - The Worst Bad Man deliberately removed his hat and handed it to the young - godfather, who took it, fitted a branch of sagebrush with three forks at - one end into the crown of the wide-brimmed hat, and thus constructed a - sort of crude parasol wherewith to keep the sun from the baby. The Worst - Bad Man nodded his approbation, and Bob Sangster lowered the baby until - its soft little face brushed the bloody bristles on The Worst Bad Man's - cheek; a handclasp—and the last of the godfathers turned his young - face toward New Jerusalem and departed into the eye of the coming day. - </p> - <p> - The Worst Bad Man watched him until he disappeared into the neutrals of - the desert before he turned his head to glance back, along the trail by - which they had come. Away off to the southwest, forty miles away, the - Cathedral Peaks lifted their castellated spires, and the gaze of the - stricken godfather went no farther. The Cathedral Peaks—how like a - church they seemed, standing there in the solitude, sublime, - indestructible, eternal, gazing down the centuries. The Worst Bad Man was - moved to solemn thought—he who had so little time for thought now. - His mind harkened back to the scene in the salt house on the dry lake, to - Bill Kearny's challenge to the Omnipotent, to the answers that came to - that anguished soul crying in the wilderness of doubt and unbelief; and - suddenly a great desire came over The Worst Bad Man. He, too, wanted to - know. He, too, would ask a sign. And if there was a God—— - </p> - <p> - He stretched forth his arms toward the Cathedral Peaks. “Lord, give me a - sign,” he gobbled; “let me have The Light”; and, as if in answer to his - cry, the sun burst over the crest of the Panimints, a long shaft of light - shot across the desert and painted, in colors designed by the Master - Artist, the distant spires of the Cathedral Peaks. They flamed in crimson, - in gold, in flashes of silver light, fading away into turquoise and deep - maroon, and in that light The Worst Bad Man read the answer to his riddle. - </p> - <p> - “Lord, I believe.” The horrid gobbling broke the silence once more. - “Remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.” - </p> - <p> - And then the desert madness smote his brain, and with the sudden, terrible - strength of the maniac he scrambled to his feet and started across the - waste toward the peaks. Over the long trail to the Great Divide he ran, - with arms outstretched; and as he ran the Peaks flamed and flickered in - heliograph flashes. Perhaps they carried a message, a message that only - The Worst Bad Man could understand—the message of hope eternal - sounding down the ages: - </p> - <p> - “Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.” - </p> - <p> - Presently The Worst Bad Man fell. It was the end. He had kept the faith. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - But Bob Sangster could not wait and watch and speculate. Time pressed; at - Terrapin Tanks he had passed his word, and he must be moving on if he - would save his godson. He had one can of condensed milk and half a quart - of water left. It behooved him to hurry. - </p> - <p> - When the sun was an hour high and the desolate landscape lay baking and - shimmering round him, he crept into the meager shadow of a palo-verde - tree, undressed the infant, rubbed him with the last of the olive oil and - threw the bottle away. Then with new, fresh garments carried from Terrapin - Tanks he dressed the baby. He wet his bandana handkerchief and washed the - little red face. He was preparing for the final dash. - </p> - <p> - He abandoned the supply of mesquit-bean bread and jerked beef, the Bible, - and Doctor Meecham's invaluable work on Caring for the Baby. He considered - a moment, and decided to abandon also the heavy woolen blanket in which - they had been carrying the baby. It mea'nt six pounds less weight, and - unless they made New Jerusalem before sundown Robert William Thomas would - not need it. With or without blankets, they would both sleep cold under - the stars tonight, for Bob Sang-ster was once more confronted by the - primal necessity of his calling. He had to “take a chance.” - </p> - <p> - He was about to discard his six-shooter and belt, but a stealthy crackle - in the sagebrush caused him to reconsider. He watched the spot whence the - sounds came and presently he made out the form of a coyote. The brute was - sitting on his hunkers, his red tongue lolling out of the corner of his - mouth, his glance fixed in lazy appraisal upon the last of the godfathers - and the bundle that he carried. - </p> - <p> - The boldness of the beast was an insult in itself. It drove Bob Sangster - wild with anger. With marvelous brute intelligence the coyote had sensed - the weakness of the man, and patiently he had set himself the task of - shadowing him to the finish. He sat there now—waiting. In his - contempt for the hereditary enemy the gray skulker did not even trouble to - conceal his intentions. - </p> - <p> - “So you're hangin' round for the pickin's already,” snarled Bob Sangster, - and fired. The coyote turned a somersault and crawled away through the - sage, dragging its hindlegs after it, and two more coyotes sprang up at - the sound of the shot and scurried out of range. - </p> - <p> - “You think I'll drop this boy, don't you?” raved the godfather, blazing - away at the fleeing enemy long after it was out of range. He seized Robert - William Thomas and, holding his hat parasol over the child, hurried along - toward the mouth of a draw. He was getting in among the low, black, - volcanic hills and lava beds again, and the reflected heat was terrible. - Cautiously he made his way along the shady side of the canon, and for an - hour he progressed thus until the sun, having risen higher, sought him - out. - </p> - <p> - Horned toads and lizards scuttled out of his path in fright, chuckwallas - blinked their eyes at him, a desert terrapin waddled leisurely by, and - once, gazing back over the trail, he saw that the coyotes had recovered - from their fright and were following him again. He commenced to see - mirages—wonderfully beautiful little lakes, fringed with palms and - bright-green rushes. Distinctly he heard the pleasant murmur of water - tumbling over rocks. He was tempted to pause and search for this purling - brook, but his common-sense warned that it was all a delusion of the heat - and his own imagination. He knew that the sun was getting him fast, that - he was drying up. - </p> - <p> - “Cactus,” he kept repeating to himself, as if in that one word he held the - open sesame of life; “just one niggerhead cactus.” But the niggerhead - cactus, with its scanty supply of vegetable juices, did not grow in the - country through which he was traveling, and as the slow miles slipped - behind him and his eager glance revealed the entire absence of the shrub - that meant life to him and Robert William Thomas, the terrible uselessness - of his struggle, the horrible forlornness of his forlorn hope, became more - and more apparent. The baby was whimpering continually now, and faint blue - rings had appeared under the little sufferer's eyes. He was sick and tired - and hot and itchy, and despite the fact that the godfathers had done their - best, Bob Sangster knew that the child could not last a day longer without - proper attention. It was a miracle that he had survived thus far—a - miracle only accounted for by reason of the fact that he was a healthy, - hearty twelve-pounder at birth. The last of the godfathers tried vainly to - soothe him with the oft-successful Yeller Rose o' Texas, but he was beyond - singing now, and in the knowledge that both were going swiftly he mingled - his tears with those of his godson. Yet they were manly tears, and no - taint of selfpity brought them forth. Only it broke Bob Sangster's heart - to think of his helpless godson and of the gray scavengers skulking - behind. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly the godfather thrilled with a great feeling of relief and joy. He - had come to an Indian water sign; he read it at a glance. Five little rock - monuments in a circle, with a sixth standing off to the right about thirty - feet from the others. In that direction the water lay, and bearing due - southwest Bob Sangster saw a draw opening up. The journey would take him a - mile or two out of his way, but what mattered a mile or ten miles, - provided he found water? The prospect gave him renewed hope and strength. - He forged steadily ahead and when the canon narrowed he knew he was coming - to a “tank.” Up the wash he ran and sank, sobbing, on the edge of the - water-hole. It was quite dry. - </p> - <p> - It was a long time before he could gather his courage together and depart - down the canon again. He had traveled two miles for nothing! He wept anew - at the thought, marveling the while that there should be so much moisture - still in his wretched body. - </p> - <p> - At the mouth of the canon he halted and prepared the last of his condensed - milk and water for the baby. When he proffered it, however, the child - screamed and refused the horrid draught, and as he lay on the man's knees - with his little mouth open Bob Sangster dropped in the last dregs of his - canteen. - </p> - <p> - “You need water, too, son,” he mumbled sadly. “This sweet dope is killin' - you.” - </p> - <p> - He replaced the feeding bottle in his pocket, paused long enough to kill - another coyote that had ventured too close, and resumed his journey toward - New Jerusalem. He had left the dry tank at noon. At one o'clock he was two - miles nearer New Jerusalem; at three o'clock he was within five miles of - the camp and had fallen for the first time. But even as he fell he had - thrust out his left hand, thus fending his weight from the baby, and the - child had not been injured. So the godfather merely covered the child's - tender head with Tom Gibbons' old hat, and together they lay for a while - prone in the sand. The man was not yet done, but he was exhausted and half - blind and very weak. He was striving to get his courage in hand once more, - and he needed a rest so badly. So he lay there, trying to think, until - presently the whimpering of the infant aroused him, and he sat up - suddenly. - </p> - <p> - Seated in a circle, of which Bob Sangster and the baby formed the axis, - were half a dozen coyotes. They were closer now—too close for - comfort and, cowardly as he knew them to be, there were enough of them - present to fan their courage to the point where a single rush would end - it. He fired at them and they scampered away unharmed. - </p> - <p> - “I can't shoot any more,” the man wailed. “I'm goin' blind. Come, son, we - must move on or they'll get us to-night.” - </p> - <p> - He picked the child up and plodded on, and once more the coyotes fell into - line behind him. The godfather began to feel afraid of them. He was - obsessed with a horrible fear that they might sneak up and snap at him - from behind, or rush him en masse and tear the baby out of his arms. He - kept glancing back and firing at them. But all of his shots went wild and - gradually the tracing brutes grew bolder. Whenever he sat down for a few - minutes to rest they surrounded him, and it seemed to the godfather that - each time they edged in closer. He decided to save his cartridges until - the final rush. - </p> - <p> - He tottered along until four o'clock before he fell again. This time he - twisted in time to land on his back, with the baby uppermost, and as he - lay there, stunned and shaken, the godfather was almost proud of himself - for his forethought. He closed his eyes to rid his vision of the myriads - of red, yellow and blue spots that came dancing out of the sand and - shooting into the air like skyrockets. The spots still persisted, however—for - the skyrockets were in his brain, and as he lay there it came to him that - this was to be the end after all. He was too weak to carry the baby - further. Sooner or later he would fall upon it and kill it, so why - struggle further—— - </p> - <p> - The baby was leaving him! He could feel it being slowly dragged from his - protecting arm, and with a moan that was intended for a shriek he sat up - and reached for his gun. So close to him was the coyote, dragging gingerly - at the infant's clothing, that the godfather dared not fire. He merely - threw up his arms to frighten the beast away, and reluctantly it trotted - back and rejoined its companions of the slavering, red-tongued circle. - </p> - <p> - The godfather knelt in the sands beside the baby and searched for the - marks of teeth, but found none. The horror of their situation was brought - forcefully home to him now. He had hoped before, but hope was vanished. - New Jerusalem could not be more than three miles away, but it might as - well be three hundred, for Bob Sangster could never make it with the baby. - He thought no longer of life. He wanted to cheat the coyotes, and in his - agony he forgot that he was a Bad Man and cried aloud to a Supreme Being - of whom he knew nothing. - </p> - <p> - “O God, save me, save me! Not for myself, but for this poor little baby. - I'm old and tough, Lord, but save the baby. You were a baby yourself once, - Lord, if the Bible don't lie. Now save my baby. Don't go back on me, Lord. - Help me, help me to keep my word to raise him right——” - </p> - <p> - He clasped the child in his arms and kissed it passionately for the first - time since his assumption of the duties of a godfather And then, because - he was a fighter and could not quit while there was life within him, he - reeled onward with dogged persistence. He fixed his fading glance on some - unimportant landmark ana nerved himself to last until he should reach it. - Queer thoughts kept obtruding themselves upon him. Once he thought a - chuckwalla addressed him, saying: “Hello, Bob Sang-ster, what are you - runnin' away from? You can't dodge them coyotes. They're goin' to get that - infant, sure. Better chuck 'em the kid an' see if you can't make it alone - to New Jerusalem. That baby's weight is killin' you, boy. After all, what - is he to you? He's only a three-day-old baby. Why don't, you drop him an' - beat it in to New Jerusalem? You can make it without the baby.” - </p> - <p> - He had cursed the chuckwalla and stamped it into the earth for the insult. - But a moment later a horned toad advised him to drink the milk that still - remained in the feeding bottle. “Of course it's none o' my business,” - remarked the horned toad, “but if the baby won't drink it, you should. - It's foolish to let it go to waste. It's only a couple of mouthfuls, but - it'll give you strength to make that black lava point a mile ahead.” - </p> - <p> - “Horned Toad,” replied the godfather, “you're a sensible little critter - an' I'll take your advice. It ain't manly to do it, but nothin' matters - any more.” - </p> - <p> - He drank the milk that the baby had refused, tossed the bottle aside and - nerved himself to last until he should reach the black lava point. That - was to be the last goal. If he fell before he reached it he resolved to - climb into a palo-verde tree, wedge himself and the baby in between the - limbs, kill the baby and himself, and thus dying have the laugh on the - coyotes. - </p> - <p> - He fell. For the third time the child escaped being crushed. The - palo-verde tree was only fifty yards away, the black lava point - seventy-five yards, but when the godfather could scramble to his feet - again he made for the palo-verde tree. Here, to his disgust, he found - himself too weak to climb the tree. So he leaned against it and wept, - dry-eyed, with rage and horror and disappointment. The horned toad had - followed and now offered more advice. - </p> - <p> - “Sangster, you're a chump. Why climb the tree? The buzzards will get you, - so what's the difference?” - </p> - <p> - “I'll make the lava point,” replied the godfather. “They can't come at me - in back there, an' I can keep 'em away for a while anyhow.” - </p> - <p> - He lurched away. Foot by foot he approached the black lava point. He - resolved to round it; there was shade on the other side. Staggering, - reeling, muttering incoherently, he rounded the lava rock and collided - with something soft and hairy. He leaned against it for a moment, resting, - while something soft and warm and animallike nuzzled him and nickered - softly in the joy of the meeting. When Bob Sangster opened his eyes he - found himself leaning against a trembling old white burro with a pack on - his back. - </p> - <p> - “Water,” thought the godfather, “water. There ought to be a canvas - waterbag,” and he went clawing along the burro's side, feeling for the - waterbag but unable to find it. The little animal was standing patiently - in the shadow of the rock, and Bob Sangster stood off and looked at him. - The burro's eyes were red and dust-rimmed; evidently he had traveled far. - His legs trembled, his tongue, dry and black, protruded from his mouth. - The burro, too, was dying of thirst. - </p> - <p> - “You poor devil,” mused Bob Sangster. He gazed at the pitiable little - animal, the while his memory strove to recall some other incident in which - a burro had figured. There had been some talk of burros recently with Bill - Kearny and Tom Gibbons. What was it? Well, never mind. It didn't make any - difference. This burro was dying and useless; there was no water bag—— - </p> - <p> - <i>And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem... then sent Jesus two - disciples, saying unto them, Go into the village over against you, and - straightway ye shall find an ass tied....</i> - </p> - <p> - The words of the Gospel according to St. Matthew flamed in letters of fire - across the failing vision of the last godfather. He remembered now. He had - read a chapter from the Bible to Bill Kearny and Tom Gibbons back there at - Terrapin Tanks—and it was all about Christ riding into Jerusalem on - an ass. Here, in the shadow of this black lava, he had found a burro - waiting! - </p> - <p> - Bill Kearny had asked for a sign—— - </p> - <p> - The last of the godfathers thought of his frenzied prayer of an hour - before. He had asked for help. Could it be possible that here stood the - answer? - </p> - <p> - “There's a chance,” he mumbled. “This critter has stampeded from some - prospector's pack outfit He's been lookin' for water, and the Lord sent - him our way, sonny. He's sure sent him.” - </p> - <p> - With his free hand the godfather clawed desperately at the diamond hitch, - swept the load from the packsaddle, ripped it apart and found—a can - of tomatoes. He slashed the can open, drank some himself and gave the - balance to the burro. Then, lifting his godson into the packsaddle, he - lashed him in securely; after which he took his open pocket knife in hand - and prodded the jaded burro until it consented to move away across the - desert at a crawling, shuffling gait. Bob Sangster walked beside the - burro, one hand busy with the point of the knife, the other clinging - desperately to the rear cross of the packsaddle. His strength had, in a - measure, returned after drinking the canned tomatoes, and he fancied that - the burro too seemed rejuvenated. Bob Sangster wished he had another can - of tomatoes to offer the little beast, for the lives of himself and his - godson depended on the burro. He leaned heavily against the animal, which - half led, half dragged him along. Thus an hour passed. - </p> - <p> - They were ascending the upraise that led to the crest of the southeast - spur of Old Woman Mountain now, and through the sunset haze the witch's - demoniac face leered down at them from the heights above. Slowly, - haltingly, they progressed up the slope. The burro was almost spent, and - time and again he balked and groaned a feeble protest He welcomed the - occasions when the godfather's weak clasp of the packsaddle was broken and - he fell headlong to earth. But if he fell, the godfather rose again, - moaning, praying, raving, and still the awful cavalcade pressed on. - </p> - <p> - The shadows grew' long. The sun disappeared and evening settled over the - desert, but still the sorry pilgrimage continued up the slope. Now they - were half a mile from it, a quarter, two hundred yards, a hundred from the - summit—the burro grunted, shivered and lay down. In the gathering - gloom Bob Sangster felt for the ropes which bound the baby to the pack, - cut them and stood clear of the dying beast. - </p> - <p> - “You've pulled me up the slope in the heat, old fellow,” he tried to say - with lips that were split and parched and cut and bleeding. “I never could - have made it. New Jerusalem can't be far away now. I'll get there. But——” - </p> - <p> - He pressed the muzzle of his gun into the suffering animal's ear and - pulled. “I owed you that kindness,” he mumbled, and passed on to the crest - of the slope. - </p> - <p> - At the summit he paused, swaying gently with his precious burden, and - gazed down the other side of the spur. In a hollow a few hundred yards - below him, the lights of New Jerusalem gleamed brightly through the - gathering gloom of that lonely Christmas Eve, and the godfather recalled - the words of Bill Kearny. - </p> - <p> - “It's a Christmas baby. God won't go back on it.” - </p> - <p> - Bob Sangster's tongue hung from his mouth, long and black and withered, - like the tongue of a dead beef, as he stood there on the outskirts of New - Jerusalem and thought of many things. Bill Kearny had been right. It was a - Christmas baby. It would pull through all right. He drew the baby to him - until their faces were very close, so close that a little hand crept up - and closed tightly over the godfather's nose. - </p> - <p> - This was to be their last supreme moment together, for after tonight some - woman must enter into Robert William Thomas' life and Bob Sangster could - only be a partner in his godson's love. He recalled that the baby's mother - had told The Worst Bad Man they had “kin” in New Jerusalem, and Bob - Sangster wondered if she had intended that he should turn the baby over to - them. The thought appalled him, and his hot tears fell fast on the little - white face as he staggered down the grade into New Jerusalem. - </p> - <p> - “I won't give you up,” he gibbered, “I won't. You're mine. Your mother - give you to me to raise like a man, an' I'm a-goin' to do it. You're my - kid an' you're named after us three. No, no, I won't. I've died ten - thousand deaths for you—I'll work an' I'll hire a woman——” - </p> - <p> - Fifteen minutes later a battered, bleeding, raving wreck of a man, who - hugged a bundle to his great breast, reeled into New Jerusalem and paused - in front of a hurdy-gurdy. From within came the plaintive notes of a - melodeon, and a woman—a Mary Magdalen—was singing:= - </p> - <p> - <i>Jerusalem, Jerusalem, lilt up your gates and sing,</i> - </p> - <p> - <i>Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna to your King!</i>= - </p> - <p> - Bob Sangster made his uncertain way to the woman at the melodeon and held - a bundle toward her. - </p> - <p> - “What's this?” she demanded. The last of the godfathers gobbled and - mumbled, but the words refused to come. How could the woman know what he - was trying to say? - </p> - <p> - She unwrapped the bundle and gazed down at Robert William Thomas Sangster. - </p> - <p> - Who knows? Perhaps in that moment the woman, too, like The Three Bad Men, - beheld The King! - </p> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Godfathers, by Peter B. Kyne - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE GODFATHERS *** - -***** This file should be named 51942-h.htm or 51942-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/9/4/51942/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - - </body> -</html> diff --git a/old/51942-h/images/0001.jpg b/old/51942-h/images/0001.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0e19ee8..0000000 --- a/old/51942-h/images/0001.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51942-h/images/0008.jpg b/old/51942-h/images/0008.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8e91a77..0000000 --- a/old/51942-h/images/0008.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51942-h/images/0009.jpg b/old/51942-h/images/0009.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 36fe6a2..0000000 --- a/old/51942-h/images/0009.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51942-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/51942-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0e19ee8..0000000 --- a/old/51942-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51942-h/images/enlarge.jpg b/old/51942-h/images/enlarge.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5a9bcf3..0000000 --- a/old/51942-h/images/enlarge.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51942.txt b/old/51942.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 51ad440..0000000 --- a/old/51942.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1959 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Godfathers, by Peter B. Kyne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Three Godfathers - -Author: Peter B. Kyne - -Illustrator: Dean Cornwell - -Release Date: May 2, 2016 [EBook #51942] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE GODFATHERS *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -THE THREE GODFATHERS - -By Peter B. Kyne - -Illustrated By Dean Cornwell - -Cosmopolitan Book Corporation, New York - -1913 - - -_Is the story of The Three Bad Men---not The Three Wise Men "What's a -godfather, Bill?" The Youngest Bad Man inquired. "What job does he hold -down?"_ - -_"You're an awful ignorant young man, Bob," replied The Wounded Bad Man -reproachfully. "A godfather is a sort of reserve parent who promises to -renounce the devil with all his works an' pomps."_ - -_The Youngest Bad Man smiled wanly. "Well, Bill, all I got to say is that -us three're a lovely bunch o' godfathers."_ - - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0008] - -[Illustration: 0009] - - - - - -THE THREE GODFATHERS - - -THE daylight raid on the Wicken-burg National Bank had not been a -success. It had been well planned, boldly and cleverly executed, and -the four bandits had gathered unto themselves quite a fortune in -paper money; the job had been singularly free from fuss and feathers. -Nevertheless, as has already been stated, the raid was not a success. -The assistant cashier, returning from luncheon, had, from a distance -of half a block, observed two strangers in town. Both strangers were -mounted and stood on guard in front of the Wickenburg National. In an -alley just back of the bank two saddle horses were standing; and as -the assistant cashier paused, irresolute, two men came out of the bank, -mounted the two horses waiting in the alley, and, followed by the -men who had been standing on watch in front of the bank, rode out of -Wickenburg in rather a suspicious hurry. The assistant cashier had an -inspiration. - -"Thieves! Robbers! Stop 'em!" he yelled. - -His hue and cry aroused to action an apparently inoffensive and elderly -citizen who was taking his siesta in front of The Three Deuces saloon. -Now this man in front of The Three Deuces was not the sheriff. He was -not even the city marshal. Rather he inclined one to the belief that -he might be a minister of the gospel--a soul-trapper on guard at the -portals of The Three Deuces, within which, judging by the subdued rattle -of poker chips, ivory balls and an occasional hoarse shout of "Keno!" -one could be reasonably certain of a plethora of brands ripe for the -burning. The aged citizen asleep in the chair outside was arrayed in -somber black, with a turn-down collar and white lawn tie, a "biled" -shirt with a ruby stud in it, and patriarchial white whiskers. But his -coat, of a clerical cut, effectually concealed two pieces of artillery -of a style and caliber popularized by time and tradition in the fair -state of Arizona. - -The four galloping horsemen were abreast The Three Deuces when the cry -of "Robbers!" aroused all Wickenburg. It awoke the man in the chair; and -he came to his feet with the suddenness of a ferocious old dog, filled -both hands and cut loose at one of the four horsemen. There was a -reason for this. The elderly citizen had a deposit of three dollars and -seventeen cents in the Wickenburg National. Also he possessed a fair -proportion of civic pride, and the horseman upon whom he trained his -hardware was carrying a gunny-sack containing a pro rata of the said -elderly citizen's three-seventeen. - -Four Bad Men had ridden into Wickenburg that December afternoon, but -only three rode out. One of the three had a bullet hole through his left -shoulder. The man who stayed lay, thoroughly and effectually defunct, on -top of a bulging gunny-sack in front of The Three Deuces. Came -presently the paying teller of the Wicken-burg National and removed -the gunny-sack. Came half an hour later the coroner of Wickenburg and -removed the body. As for the elderly citizen of deceptive appearance, he -walked uptown to a hardware store, replenished his supply of ammunition -and returned to The Three Deuces in a highly cheerful frame of mind. -Here let us leave him, for with this story he has nothing further to do. -From now on our interest must center on The Three Bad Men who rode out -of Wickenburg headed for the California line--which happens to be the -Colorado River. - -They made their first halt at Granite Tanks, twenty-five miles from -Wickenburg. Here they watered their horses and then pressed onward -toward the river. At the river they found a boat, thoughtfully provided -for just such an emergency as the present. - -Darkness had already settled over the land when The Three Bad Men came -to the Colorado River. It would have been wise on their part to have -waited until the rising of the moon, but our story does not deal with -The Three Wise Men. Within the hour a posse might appear, and, moreover, -The Three Bad Men were of that breed that prefers to "take a chance." -They rode their jaded horses into the flood until the yellow waters -lapped their bellies; then they shot them and shoved the carcasses off -into the current. - -An hour later The Three Bad Men landed on the California side near -Bill Williams Mountain, filled their boat with stones and sank it, and -shouldering a supply of food and water sufficient to last them four -days, headed up a long box canon that led north to the Colorado Desert. -They made fair time after the moon came up. All night long they trudged -through the box canon, and at daylight it opened out into the waste. - -"Well, boys, I guess we're safe." remarked The Worst Bad Man, who was -the leader of the trio. "It's cooler in the canon, so suppose we camp -here. I feel like breakfast and some sleep. How's your shoulder, Bill?" - -The Wounded Bad Man shrugged the wounded member disdainfully. - -"High up. Missed the bone and don't amount to much, Tom. But I've bled -like a stuck pig and it's weakened me a little." - -"I'll heat some water and wash it up, Bill," said The Youngest Bad Man, -much concerned. - -They made a very small fire of cat-claw and ironwood, brewed a pot of -coffee, breakfasted, washed and dressed The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder -and slept until late afternoon. They awoke much refreshed, ate an early -supper and struck out across the desert to the north, where in time they -would come to the Santa Fe tracks. There were lonely stations out there -in the sands--they might be worth investigation. Then on to the new -mining camp at Old Woman Mountain--a camp which, following the whimsical -and fantastic system of desert nomenclature, which seems to trend toward -such names as Mecca, Cadiz. Bagdad, Bengal and Siam, had had bestowed -upon it the not inappropriate name of New Jerusalem. - -For a number of reasons The Three Bad Men preferred to travel by night. -Primarily they were prowlers and preferred it. Secondly, although one -may encounter torrid weather by day on the Colorado Desert even in -December, the nights, on the contrary, are bitterly cold--and The Three -Bad Men had no blankets. Also there was this advantage about traveling -at night and sleeping in the shadow of a rock by day: they would not -meet other wanderers and there would he no embarrassing questions to -answer respecting the hole in The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder. - -Consequently The Three Bad Men traveled by night. From Mojave Tanks -they swung west to avoid the mining operations there, although more than -once they glanced back wistfully at the little cluster of yellow lights -shining across the sands. The Wounded Bad Man's shoulder was in a bad -way and needed medical attention. Also they needed water; but they were -desert-bred and could last until they came to Malapai Springs. - -So they turned their backs on Mojave Tanks and tramped onward. Now they -were in the ghostly moonlight of the open desert, with the outlines -of the mountain ranges on each side looming dim and shadowy fifteen or -twenty miles away; now they were picking their way carefully through -clusters of murderous catclaw, through tangles of mesquit and ironwood. -Up dark, lonely arroyos they went; down long alleys between the -outstretched arms of the ocatillas with their pendulous, blood-red -blossoms, passing dried, withered Joshua trees twisted into fantastic -shapes as if their fearful surroundings had caused them to writhe in -horror; through solitude and desolation so vast and profound as to -inspire one with the thought that the Creator, appalled at the magnitude -of this abortion of Nature, had set it apart as an eternal heritage of -the damned. - -In the forenoon of the fifth day they came to Malapai Springs. Here The -Three Bad Men drank deeply, bathed, filled their canteens and stepped -blithely out for Terrapin Tanks, the next water-hole--a little-known -and consequently unfrequented spot--where they could rest for a few -days before attempting the last desperate leg of their journey to the -railroad. - -"Don't stint yourself on the water. Bill," The Worst Bad Man advised as -they departed from Malapai Springs. "There's always water at Terrapin -Tanks." Nevertheless, with the instinct of the desert-bred, The Worst -Bad Man and The Youngest Bad Man were sparing with the water themselves, -although careful to conceal this fact from The Wounded Bad Man. The -latter's shoulder was swollen and inflamed, and it was a relief to him -if the bandages were kept wet. - -The Worst Bad Man, who knew the country better than his companions, had -timed their arrival at Terrapin Tanks almost to the hour. The sun was -just coming up over the low red hummocks of hematite to the eastward -when The Three Bad Men plodded wearily up a long, dry canon, turned a -sharp, rocky promontory into an arroyo--and paused. - -Borne on the slight desert breeze a sound came to them from up the -arroyo. It was a mournful, wailing cry and ended in a sob--a sound that -bespoke pain and fear and misery. - -The Three Bad Men looked at one another. Each held up an index finger, -enjoining silence. A second, a third time the sound was repeated. - -"It's a human voice," announced The Worst Bad Man, "an' there's death in -it. Wait here. I'm goin' in to see what's up." - -When he had gone The Youngest Bad Man, after the restless and -inquisitive manner of youth, climbed a tall rock and gazed up the -arroyo. - -"I see the top of a covered wagon," he announced. - -"Then," said The Wounded Bad Man, "It's a tenderfoot outfit, an' that's -a woman cryin'. No desert rat'd come here with a wagon. Fools drive in -where burros fear to tread. Bob. They're tenderfeet." - -"That's right," agreed The Youngest Bad Man. "Some nester come in over -the trail from Imperial Valley and bound for New Jerusalem, I'll bet a -new hat." - -"Whoever's doin' that whimperin' is sure bound for New Jerusalem," The -Wounded Bad Man replied with a grim attempt at humor. "An' if I don't -let a doctor look at this shoulder o' mine before long I'll head that -way myself." - -The Worst Bad Man was gone about ten minutes. Presently the others -saw him returning. On his hard, sunscorched face deep concern showed -plainly, and as he trotted down the arroyo he scratched his unkempt head -as if in search of an idea of sufficient magnitude to cope with a grave -situation. When he reached his comrades he sat down on a chunk of black -lava and fanned himself with his hat. - -"There's a line old state of affairs at the Tanks," he said huskily. - -"They ain't dry, are they?" Fright showed in the wide blue eyes of The -Youngest Bad Man. The Wounded Bad Man sat down very suddenly and gulped. -The Worst Bad Man replied to the question. - -"Worse'n that." - -The Wounded Bad Man sighed. "It can't be," he said. - -"There's a wagon at the Tanks," continued The Worst Bad Man, "but no -horses. It's a tenderfoot outfit--a man an' his woman--an' they come in -from Salton, via Canon Springs and Boulder, headed for New Jerusalem. -Some o' their kin has started a boardin' tent in the new camp an' these -two misfortunates were aimin' to go in with the rush an' clean up a -stake. They make Terrapin Tanks all right, but the water's a little low -an' the man ain't got sense enough to dig out the sand an' let the water -run in. He's one of these nervous city fellers, I guess, and it just -naturally hurts him to set down an' wait till that sump-hole fills up. -Besides, he don't take kindly to usin' a shovel, so he sticks in a shot -o' dynamite to clean out th' tanks an' start the water runnin'----" - -The Wounded Bad Man sprang to his feet, cursing horribly. - -"The damned, crazy fool!" he raved. "I'll kill him, I will. I'll kill -him just as sure as I'm thirsty." - -The Worst Bad Man paid no attention to the other's outburst. - -"So he stuck in his stick o' dynamite an' it's only a fool's luck he -didn't blow himself up doin' it. I wisht he had; but he didn't. He just -put Terrapin Tanks out o' business forever--cracked the granite floor o' -that sump-hole an' busted down the sides, an' the water's run out -into the sand an' the tanks run dry. They'll stay dry. We can have -cloudbursts in this country from now until I get religion, but them -tanks'll never hold another drop o' water. That fool tenderfoot's dead, -I guess; but he's goin' to keep right on killin' people just the same. -Men'll keep comin' here, bankin' on water--an' in five years there'll be -a dozen skeletons round that busted tank." - -"But all that ain't what's bitin' me half as hard as what he went an' -done next. He went an' let his stock nose round an' lick up that alkali -slop below the Tanks, an' drove 'em _loco_. They took off up the canon, -huntin' water, with Mr. Man after 'em. That was four days ago an' he -ain't come back yet; so we don't need to waste no time speculatin' on -his case an' feelin' sorry for him. It wouldn't 'a been so bad, but he -went an' left his woman alone at th' Tanks. She had a little water left, -so she wasn't so bad off until yesterday, when it give out. It's been -pretty hard on her all alone there--an' she's a nice little woman too. -About twenty, I guess, an' heaps too good for the cuss she married. But -still that ain't the worst--not by a long shot. She's goin' to have a -papoose." - -"_What!_" - -"The Youngest Bad Man and The Wounded Bad Man voiced the horrified -exclamation in unison; then The Wounded Bad Man sank back against a -rock. - -"Yes," The Worst Bad Man affirmed huskily, "there's a baby due right -soon, I reckon. She's in a pretty bad fix. I was never married, boys, -an' I don't know what to do for her--an' she's cryin', an' prayin', and -askin' for help, an'--I--don't know----" - -The Worst Bad Man choked and hid his hard face in his hands. He shook -like a hooked fish. Silence, while The Worst Bad Man fought for control -of himself. - -"I'm a tough old bird," he said presently--"I'm an awful tough old bird; -but I can't go back there alone. You've got to come with me, lads. We -got to do someth'n' for her." - -He turned hopefully to The Wounded Bad Man. - -"Bill," he said pleadingly, "you ought to know somethin' about such -cases. You do, don't you Bill? Wasn't you married to a half-breed girl -down on the Rio Colorado somewheres, an' didn't she have kids for you?" - -The Wounded Bad Man was on the defensive instantly. - -"Yes, that's true," he admitted with some, show of reluctance, "but -then, Tom, you know as well as me that Injuns is different. They ain't -_human_, an' this here's a white woman----" - -"That's right." The Youngest Bad Man out of the wisdom of his twenty-two -summers hastened to Bill's assistance. "An' child-bearin' with a white -woman means doctors an' nurses an' feather beds an' what-all." - -The Wounded Bad Man flashed the youth a grateful glance. - -"You bet that's right, Bob. An' besides, when that woman o' mine had -them two twins I was doin' a five year stretch in Yuma--so you can see -I don't know nothin' about it. All I know is what I've heard. She didn't -even call a neighbor's woman--just brings them twins into the world one -day, an' gets out an' hustles a livin' for 'em the next." - -"Well," retorted the bedeviled Worst Bad Man, "I wasn't tryin' to pass -the buck. Just a-ruminatin' around for information." He rose wearily. -"Come on," he growled, and led the way. - -The Three Bad Men walked up the draw to Terrapin Tanks. In reverential -awe they stood beside the covered wagon, parted the side curtains and -looked in. - -On a straw tick, covered with blankets, lay a woman. She was young, with -great brown eyes alight with fever and with the luster of approaching -motherhood. A long braid of brown hair lay across her white breast; she -moaned in her pain and terror and wretchedness. - -The Wounded Bad Man found a tin cup and gave her generously of his all -too scant supply of water. The Youngest Bad Man got a clean towel out -of the tail-box, wet it and washed her burning face and hands. The Worst -Bad Man, whose courage, for all his deviltry, had its limitations, went -and sat down on the tongue of the wagon and tried to think. But scourged -with the horror of this most terrible of human travail, he fled up the -arroyo out of hearing. On the top of one of the little black volcanic -hills, from which eminence he could look down on the wagon, he stood, -active, alert, like a mountain sheep on guard, and beckoned to his -friends to join him. The Youngest Bad Man obeyed his frantic signals, -but The Wounded Bad Man stayed at the wagon. - -"You've got to be easy on me, son, at a time like this," said The Worst -Bad Man humbly. "I'm an awful tough old bird, but I can't stand that. It -ain't no place for the likes o' me. What's to be done?" - -"Nothin' much, I guess." The Youngest Bad Man threw out his hands in -desperation. "Bill says she ain't got a chance." - -He took his canteen in both hands and shook it gently; seeing which The -Worst Bad Man did the same with his. - -"How much has Bill got left?" he asked anxiously. - -"Nary drop. He's been right feverish along o' that hole in his wing, an' -hittin' his canteen heavy, expectin' to find water in the Tanks." - -"Well, we got about two gallons left," announced The Worst Bad Man -philosophically, "but I see us cuttin' niggerhead cactus before we hit -another tank. Once in San Berdoo I heard a sky-pilot preachin', an' -he 'lowed that the way o' the transgressor's bound to be hard; but I'm -dogged if I looked for anythin' half as hard as this. Bill's callin' -you, son. Better lope back to the wagon. I'll--I--guess I'll wait here." - -He waited half an hour, watching with anxious and paternal eyes the -activities of his fellows at the wagon. Once the sounds of woe drifted -up to him and he moved farther up the canon. Here he waited, and -presently The Wounded Bad Man joined him. - -"What luck, Bill?" he demanded. - -"A boy," responded The Wounded Bad Man. "Come on down an' look at him, -Tom. He's worth it. He's man size." - -"How about that misfortunate girl?" - -"She ain't a-goin' to last long, Tom. She's a-goin' fast, an' she wants -to see you--all of us--together. She's quiet now." - -Thus reassured, The Worst Bad Man returned with The Wounded Bad Man to -the Tanks. With uncovered head he approached the wagon, dreading to -gaze upon that tragic face, drawn with agony. But lo! as he parted the -curtains he gazed upon the miracle of motherhood. Gone were the lines of -suffering; the girl's face was transfigured with the light of that joy -and peace and pride that God gives to new-made mothers, and for the -first time in all his hard life The Worst Bad Man was permitted to -glimpse something of the glory of his Creator. - -The babe, wrapped in a coarse crash towel, lay in the hollow of the -little mother's arm, its red, puckered little face rested on her snowy -bosom, the while she gazed downward at her treasure. It came to The -Worst Bad Man very suddenly that once upon a time a woman had gazed -upon him with that same look of yearning and joy ineffable; and with -the thought he reached for the mother's left hand and carried it to -his cracked and blistered lips. He spoke no word, but as he bowed his -reckless head reverently over that fevered hand he seemed to cry aloud: - -"Here is my wasted and worthless life. I offer it in exchange for -yours." - -The girl mother's calm, benevolent eyes beamed their gratitude. She -understood, and like a true mother she accepted his tribute--only the -sacrifice could not be for her. - -"What is your name?" she asked wearily. - -"Tom Gibbons." - -"And yours?" turning to The Wounded Bad Man. - -"Bill Kearny." - -She glanced inquiringly at The Youngest Bad Man. - -"Bob Sangster," he replied. - -"Will you save my baby?" Slowly, searchingly, the wonderful eyes -confronted each Bad Man in turn. - -"I'll save him," promised The Youngest Bad Man. With all the rashness, -the unthinking, unreasoning confidence and generosity of youth, he -passed his word. He recked not of the long trail ahead with death for -the pacemaker. He only knew that this woman of sorrow had gazed longest -upon him, estimating the strength in his lithe, big body, searching for -his manhood in the face where sin had not yet laid its devastating hand. -So he passed his word, and passing it in all the regal simplicity of the -brave, the mother knew that he would keep it. - -"I'll help," croaked The Wounded Bad Man humbly. He glanced at The Worst -Bad Man, who bowed his head once more over the little hand. - -"I'll help too." - -"I want you--all of you--to be my baby's godfathers. Poor little son! -He'll be all alone in this big world when his mamma leaves him, and he's -going to miss her so. Aren't you, sweetheart? Nobody to tuck you into -bed at night, nobody to teach you your prayers, nobody to kiss the -little sore spots when you fall and hurt yourself, nobody to tell your -little secrets to----" - -She closed her eyes. A tear stole through between the long lashes, and -The Wounded Bad Man turned away. The Youngest Bad Man went and sat down -on the wagon tongue and wept, for he was young. Only The Worst Bad Man -stayed, watching, waiting. And presently the mother spoke again. - -"Are you all here? It's getting dark--and we must be moving on--to -the next waterhole. You--Bob Sangster--take baby. You said you'd save -him--didn't you? And Bill Kearny--and--Tom--Gibbons--will you be his -godfathers--and--help--Bob--Sangster--on the--trail? Will you?. -Promise--me--again--and... his name?... Call him -Robert--William--Thomas--Sangster... and when he's--a fine--big--brave -man--like his--godfathers--you'll tell--him--about his little mother -who--wanted to live--for him so.... Lift him up--godfathers--and let -me--kiss my--baby." - -The Worst Bad Man waited until the last fluttering little sigh was -finished before he removed the infant. The Wounded Bad Man closed the -mother's eyes and folded her hands across her pulseless breast. The -Youngest Bad Man stood, grasping the brake-rod until his knuckles showed -white with the strain of the grip. Long he stood there, gazing at that -calm, spiritual face with its halo of glistening brown hair, pondering -deeply on the mysteries of birth and life and death. To him it all -seemed a monstrous thing; and when The Worst Bad Man came to him with a -shovel he wept aloud. - -"Death is a terrible thing, Tom," he sobbed. - -"Life's worse," said The Wounded Bad Man gently. He was seated apart, -with the baby in his arms, shielding it from the sun with his broad -sombrero. "Death can only get you once, but Life is a ghost dance. I -wonder what it has in store for you, kidlets. I wonder." - -The Youngest Bad Man departed down the arroyo with the shovel and The -Worst Bad Man, discovering a hammer and nails in the toolbox under the -scat, removed the side boards and some strips from the wagon bed and -fell briskly to work. When The Wounded Bad Man had satisfied himself -that The Youngest Bad Man was nor within hearing, he spoke: - -"I say, Tom. Did you notice her when she asked us to save the baby? She -picked on Bob. Seems as if she knew." - -"I noticed. I guess she knew. They say angels always does know. It's -forty-five miles to New Jerusalem, Bill, and you can't make it, and -I'm--I'm too old for a long stretch without water." - -"That's why I said I'd help." - -"Same here." - -"We've got to do the first two heats, Tom. We've got to save young Bob's -strength for the final dash. I'll carry the baby an' you carry the grub -an' things tonight, an' tomorrow night----" - -"I'll carry everything tomorrow night; after that it'll be up to Bob. -He's young and hard and game. He ought to make it." - -Late in the afternoon, with clumsy tenderness they buried the martyred -mother there by the Terrapin Tanks, built a cairn over the grave and -crowned it with a cross. Then they returned to the dismantled wagon to -hold a consultation. - -The Wounded Bad Man was the first to broach the subject closest to the -hearts of all three. - -With characteristic directness he shot his query at them. All his wicked -life he had been facing desperate issues; long since he had learned to -face them unblinkingly. - -"Robert William Thomas's got to have a bath, ain't he?" - -The Youngest Bad Man took hold of the brake rod again and steadied -himself. The Worst Bad Man looked at the wounded godfather in vague -surprise. - -"I never figgered on that at all," he said simply. "I was thinkin' about -how we're to feed him. I'm for tubbin' him all right, but----" - -He held up the two canteens. His pause was eloquent. - -"But he's such a little feller it won't take much," protested The -Wounded Bad Man. "He'll fit nice in a dishpan." - -"I wish he was old enough to stagger along a few days without bathin'," -mourned The Youngest Bad Man. "Maybe he can. I don't know a thing about -infants; but if he must be bathed, why I guess we'd better----" - -"I 'lowed to ask his mother a few questions regardin' his up-keep and -what-all," interrupted The Wounded Bad Man apologetically, "but I clean -forgot." - -The Worst Bad Man wagged his head as if to convey the impression that -this was a pardonable oversight indeed. He was thinking. - -"It stands to reason," he announced presently, "that this infant's -mother naturally made some provision for his reception into camp. It's -my opinion that gettin' a bath is the least o' the troubles confrontin' -our godson. He's just naturally got to eat, an' wear somethin' better'n -a towel that'll plum scratch the hide off'n him. There ought to be -somethin' for Robert boy in that tail-box." - -So they searched the tailbox and discovered many things--condensed -milk, a carton of soda crackers, a quart bottle of olive oil, a feeding -bottle, two "bluffers" with real ivory rings, and an assortment of baby -clothes, many of them hemstitched and worked through long months of -loving anticipation. The silence was pregnant of tears as The Worst Bad -Man held up a wee woolen undershirt and two little stockings that might -have been cut from the index fingers of a pair of woolen mittens. The -trio surveyed them wonderingly before returning to the search of the -tailbox. - -"Ah, here we are, Tom, all fine and dandy," announced The Wounded -Bad Man, fishing up a book from the recesses of the tailbox. "'Doctor -Meecham on Carin' for the Baby.' Let's see what the doc has to say about -it." - -"Here's another," said The Worst Bad Man, picking up another book -and skimming through the first few pages, "but it don't say nothin' -about----It's a Bible!" - -He tossed it from him contemptuously, and The Youngest Bad Man, still -under the spell of his youth and its resultant curiosity, retrieved the -Bible. The Worst Bad Man, in the mean time, peered over the shoulder of -The Wounded Bad Man. - -"Turn to the part on bathin' the baby, Bill," he commanded. - -"Hum! Ah-hem! Let me see. All right, Tom." - -"Bathin' the Baby--Too much care cannot be exercised in performin' this -most important part of the baby's toilette----" - -"What in blazes is a toilette?" demanded The Worst Bad Man. The Wounded - -Ban Man thereupon looked into the tailbox as if in search of it. - -"I guess our baby ain't got no toilette in his war bags," he replied -sadly. "A toilette," he continued, "is a little green tin bathtub about -as long as my arm. Cost about _dos pesos_ in any hardware store." - -"You--Bob. You hear that?" admonished The Worst Bad Man. "When you get -to New Jerusalem, you send out to Dan-by first-off an' round up the best -toilette money can buy. Remember that, Bob. Crack right along. Bill. -What does the doc say next?" - -"The First Bath--The first bath should not be administered until the -baby is at least three days old----" - -"Bill," said The Worst Bad Man, looking solemnly at his companion, "if I -had a sick tomcat I wouldn't send for Doc Meecham. Three days without a -bath! That's all right when the boy's a grown-up an' ain't supposed to -bathe between waterholes when he's in the desert, or every Saturday -night when he's in town, but with new babies I'll lay you my silver -spurs tis different. The doc's wrong, Bill. But come again." - -Thus encouraged, The Wounded Bad Man read; - -"Immediately after birth the nurse should rub the entire body with -olive oil, or, if that is not available, with some clean, pure grease or -lard." - -The Wounded Bad Man closed the book, but kept his finger in to mark the -place. - -"It don't sound regular, Tom, I'll admit; but there's a bottle of olive -oil in the tailbox, so it looks like Robert William Thomas was due for a -greasin' up in accordance with the doctor's orders." - -The Worst Bad Man pondered. "Well, I ain't convinced nohow," he said -presently. "This godson o' ours is startin' life slippery enough with us -for his godfathers." He pondered a moment or two longer. "Still, it we -follow the book it may save Robert from chafin' an' gettin' saddle galls -on him. Hand over the ile, Bob, an' we'll slick the young feller up -a mite. It's just the tenderness o' hell we don't have to use -axle-grease!" - -The Wounded Bad Man held the naked babe in his lap, across which he had -spread the towel, and The Worst Bad Man applied the oil. - -"Roll him over, Bill." - -The Wounded Bad Man rolled him over, and in a few minutes the task was -completed. Dressing the infant, however, was infinitely more laborious. -The godfathers, knowing something of the biting chill of the desert -nights, were grateful for the profusion of woolen clothing and delicate -woolen baby blankets which their search of the tailbox had netted, and -when in due course The Youngest Bad Man had succeeded in dressing the -infant after a nondescript fashion of his own, The Worst Bad Man corked -the olive oil bottle, wiped his hands on his trousers, and beamed with -the consciousness of a duty well performed. - -Next, The Wounded Bad Man ran his horny thumb down the index of Doctor -Meecham on Caring for the Baby, until he came to the chapter entitled: -"Feeding the Baby." This chapter he real aloud. - -"This is comfortin'," he remarked, turning down the leaf to mark the -page. "Doctor Meecham says that there's times when a baby won't thrive -on nothin' else but condensed milk. We got plenty o' that." - -"Yes, an' we can maul up some o' them sody crackers an' make some pap -for him," replied The Worst Bad Man; "an' in a pinch we can bile him a -pot o' gruel." - -"We'll need water for that, Tom," The Wounded Bad Man reminded him; "an' -we'll need water to dilute this here condensed milk an' warm it up -for the feedin' bottle. I 'low some of the godfathers's goin' to suck -niggerhead cactus enough to do 'em quite a spell before they hit New -Jerusalem." - -"That's right," The Worst Bad Man replied gravely; "Robert William -Thomas's got to have the water, an' Jerusalem's the nearest camp, an' -it's about forty-five mile as the crow flies. Malapa; Springs is back -there thirty-odd mile, though----" - -"There ain't no women at Malapai Springs," retorted The Wounded Bad Man -pointedly, "and we can't fool no time in the desert with this infant. -It's up to us to hike--an' hike lively--to New Jerusalem. We've got six -cans o' condensed milk, an' we can't get morn't three shots o' milk -from each can. It's going to spoil quick after it's opened. Besides, if -we----" - -The Youngest Bad Man had just been the recipient of a serious thought. -He hastened to get it off his mind. Boylike he interrupted and rose to a -question of information. - -"What's a godfather, Bill? What job does he hold down?" - -"You're an awful ignorant young man, Bob," replied The Wounded Bad -Man reproachfully. "You been raised out in the woods somewheres? A -godfather, Bob, is a sort of reserve parent. When a kid is baptized -there's a godfather an' a godmother present, an' for an' on behalf o' -the kid they promise the preacher, just the same as the kid would if he -could only talk, to renounce the devil with all his works an' pomps----" - -"What's his works and pumps?" demanded The Youngest Bad Man. - -"Well--robbin' banks an' shootin' up deputy sheriffs, et cetry, et -cetry." - -The Youngest Bad Man smiled wanly. "Well, Bill, all I got to say is -that us three're a lovely bunch o' godfathers. Best thing we can do is to -shunt the job to a godmother." - -"But there ain't no godmother," said The Worst Bad Man sadly. "It's up -to us. She"--he jerked an oily thumb toward the little mound of sand and -rock--"she said somethin' about teachin' him his prayers an' bringin' -h'm up a big, brave, strong man--like--like his godfathers." - -"Well, that's part of the job, too," The Wounded Bad Man informed them. -"I went to a Sunday-school when I was a kid, an' I know what I'm -talkin' about. A godfather's got to keep his eye peeled an' see that his -godchild gets a reeligious education." - -"Then," said The Youngest Bad Man, "I reckon we'd better tote along this -here Bible. I just come across somethin' interestin'. It's about Jesus -Christ ridin' into Jerusalem. Listen:" - -And The Youngest Bad Man proceeded to read from the Gospel according to -St. Matthew: - -"And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem, and were come to Bethphage, -unto the Mount of Olives, then sent Jesus two disciples, Saying unto -them, Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall -find an ass tied, and a colt with her: loose them, and bring them unto -me. And if any man say ought unto you, ye shall say, The Lord hath need of -them; and straightway he will send them." - -"Rot!" snapped The Worst Bad Man. "I don't believe a word of it. You try -swipin' a man's jacks, with or without a colt, in this country, an' see -what happens if you say the Lord hath need of them. The Lord won't save -you nohow. But cut out this religious talk, Bob, an' rustle up some -sagebrush for a fire. We'll heat some of this airtight milk and feed our -godson before we leave." - -The fire was lit forthwith, and the condensed milk prepared according to -the instructions laid down by Doctor Meecham. The Worst Bad Man poured -the water, while the other two godfathers guarded jealously every drop. -He heated the mixture to the proper temperature, warmed the feeding -bottle in it and then filled the bottle. The Wounded Bad Man sat -with the baby in his lap and pressed the feeding bottle to the little -stranger's lips. - -It was an anxious moment to the three godfathers. Would he or would he -not "take hold?" He did, promptly, with a gusto that brought a howl of -delight from The Worst Bad Man. - -"I sure do admire to see the way that young feller adapts himself to -conditions." said The Wounded Bad Man proudly. - -"Hops right to it, like a drunkard to a Fourth of July barbecue," said -The Youngest Bad Man. "He'll do." There was all the pride of fatherhood -in the boy's tones. "Game little pup, ain't he?" - -"His poor little ma was game," remarked The Worst Bad Man "He comes by -it natural. I wonder what kind of a coyote his old man was. It'd sure -be a sin if this boy grew up to be as big a fool as his father. I'd turn -over in my grave." - -"Well, that's up to the last of the godfathers," said The Wounded Bad -Man. "Mind you learn him hoss-sense, Bob. Don't let him grow up to wear -eyeglasses before he's twenty-one years old, an' make him say 'sir' when -he speaks to you. Teach him hoss-sense and respect, Bob. Them's the two -great requirements to a man's education." - -"The way he's downin' his provender," The Worst Bad Man remarked, "he'll -be full up in five minutes and want to go to sleep. It's too hot to -resk him out just now, an' Doc Meecham says he's go to be fed every four -hours. We'll set up the drinks to Robert agin at four o'clock, an' then -we'll git out o' this hole a-flyin'. Pendin' our departure, Bob, my son, -you pull off to one side an' study all that Doctor Meecham has to say -about carin' for the baby. - -"Knowledge ain't so awful heavy, my son, when you carry it in your -head, an' this Doc Meecham book weighs more'n two pounds. Bill'll take a -little sleep, an' I'll keep the flies off'n him an' the infant." - -***** - -It was almost sun-down when the three godfathers left Terrapin Tanks -with their godson and struck off through the low black hills toward -the northeast. A cold night wind was springing up, and to the thirsty -godfathers, not one of whom had tasted water since sun-up that morning, -the cool breeze was refreshing. - -Up the wild, lonely draws they trudged, the sleeping infant, wrapped in -a double blanket, reposing in the hollow of The Wounded Bad Man's -sound arm. The man's face was drawn and very haggard, and he staggered -slightly from weakness once or twice in spots where the trail was rough. -The Youngest Bad Man, following at his heels, was quick to notice this. - -"Here, I ain't carryin' an ounce o' weight," he expostulated. "Bill's -carryin' th' water an' the airtight milk an' the feedin' bottle an' the -camp kettle and our grub, an' you're carryin' the baby an' a bundle of -extra clothes. Lemme spell you a few miles, Bill. You're in bad shape -with that sore shoulder, an' you're goin' to wear yourself out too -soon." - -The Wounded Bad Man shook his head. "I'll carry him as far as I can -while I got the strength to do it. I ain't carryin' more'n fifteen -pounds, but it'll be enough for you before you get to New Jerusalem." - -"Why, ain't you comin' with us?" demanded The Youngest Bad Man. - -"No," The Wounded Bad Man retorted firmly, "I ain't." - -The Worst Bad Man turned in the trail, unscrewed the cap of the canteen -and held the canteen toward the Wounded Bad Man. - -"I think we can spare just one mouthful, Bill," he said kindly. "You -bein' hit through the shoulder that-a-way, naturally we don't hold you -so rigid to the rule." - -The Wounded Bad Man had been nuzzling the baby's forehead with the tip -of his great sunburnt nose. Now he raised his head quickly and his face -was terrible to behold. - -"I've done a heap o' ornery things in my day," he growled, "but I ain't -stealin' the water that belongs to my godson. Don't you insult me no -more, Tom Gibbons." - -"That reminds me," remarked The Worst Bad Man affably, "you're carryin' -some extra weight." - -He reached forward, unbuckled The Wounded Bad Man's belt, with its forty -rounds of pistol cartridge and the heavy revolver, and tossed it into -the greasewood. - -"That helps some!" The Wounded Bad Man growled out the words again. - -They walked on in silence hour after hour. Presently as they trudged -along The Worst Bad Man began lighting matches. - -"Nine o'clock," he announced. "Third drink-time for Robert William -Thomas. We'll make a dry camp an' heat some more milk--listen!" - -From a draw to the right there came, borne on the night wind, the sound -of savage growling and yelping, as of dogs quarreling ever a bone. - -"Coyotes," The Youngest Bad Man elucidated. "They got somethin'." - -"Move along out o' here," cried The Wounded Bad Man irritably. "I don't -want to listen to that. They'll get me soon enough." - -They moved farther up the draw and camped for half an hour. Again The -Wounded Bad Man fed the baby, and once more they swung away on -their sorry road to New Jerusalem. Toward morning the baby awoke and -whimpered, and The Wounded Bad Man, who never once during the long night -had relinquished his trust, sought to soothe it with song. - - Oh, Ella Ree, so kind an" true, - - In th' little churchyard lies. - - Her grave is bright with drops o' dew, - - But brighter were her eyes. - - Then carry me back to Tennessee, - - There let me---- - -It was a melody of his childhood. His mother had sung it to him in the -old lost days of his youth and innocence, and the plaintive ballad came -cracked and quavering through lips swollen with suffering. It was a -mournful song, but it seemed appropriate, for The Wounded Bad Man was -thinking of the little mother away off there in the silence at Terrapin -Tanks. Whether from this or physical inability to proceed farther, his -voice broke in the second line of the chorus. - -"Dog my cats," he gasped feebly, "I can't sing a lick no more!" - -"I'll sing for him," volunteered The Youngest Bad Man; "I'l give him 'The -Yeller Rose o' Texas'." - -They made fifteen miles that first night, and at sun-up they emerged -from the black volcanic hills out on to a great, white, shimmering, dry -salt lake. A mile away a little cabin, dazzling white in the glint of -the rising sun, flared against the horizon, and far to the northeast the -Witch of Old Woman Mountain sat watching them. - -"Over there on the southeast spur of Old Woman you'll find New -Jerusalem, Bob," The Worst Bad Man explained. "That mountain with -the rocky crest that looks like a witch in profile--that's Old Woman -Mountain. Watch the Witch, Bob, an' you'll get there." - -The Youngest Bad Man nodded. "We can't carry the baby in this heat," he -reminded them. "Hand him over, Bill, and I'll just buck-jump along to -that little cabin an' hole up with him till you an' Tom catch up." - -"I'll carry him," The Wounded Bad Man retorted doggedly. - -"You'll not." The Youngest Bad Man was aroused. "You're dyin' on your -feet, Bill Kearny, an' I ain't goin' to see you stand by an' fall with -my godson an' hurt him maybe. Come across with him." - -Reluctantly The Wounded Bad Man surrendered the child to The Youngest -Bad Man. The latter was drawn and weary himself, but he had what neither -of his comrades possessed--he had glorious Youth. He would still be -on his feet and traveling with his godson when the coyotes would be -quarreling over the others. He trotted off now, in a hurry to reach the -lone cabin before the heat became too oppressive. - -The Worst Bad Man looked after him enviously. "What a man!" he muttered. -"Lean an' long an' tough. If we strike some niggerhead cactus he'll get -through. He can last two days more." - -"But I don't see no niggerhead cactus," complained The Wounded Bad Man. -"It's ten miles across this salt lake, an'----" - -He swayed and fell on his hands and knees. The Worst Bad Man helped him -up. They stood for a moment, leaning against each other, resting; then -plodded weakly on. The Worst Bad Man was the first to speak. His tongue -was dry and swollen but he could still speak plainly. - -"D'ye remember, Bill, that yarn that Bob read us outen that Bible last -night--about Christ ridin' into Jerusalem an' Him send-in' two men over -to the nearest camp for a jinny with a colt? It kinder set me thinkin', -an' I been wonderin' all night. Bill, do you believe in God?" - -"I dunno," The Wounded Bad Man replied thickly. "I usen't to, but I -dunno now'. I seen things yesterday--in that woman's eyes when she -talked about the baby not havin' anybody to teach him his prayers an' -him growin' up a fine, good man. I been wonderin', too, Tom. You -don't suppose, Tom, that the Bible's wrong and that Christ sent three -disciples instead o' two?" - -"Why?" - -"Because,"--The Wounded Bad Man paused and looked at his companion -very impressively--"I kinder feel like me an' you an' Bob was -disciples--since I seen that girl an' held that little mite of a kid -in my arms. I been figgerin' it out, Tom, an' I allow that Bob ought to -make Jerusalem with Robert William Thomas some time Christmas mornin'. -The thought's comforted me a heap. Somehow I sorter got the notion -that there can't no hard luck come to a Christmas baby, an' Christ just -naturally can't go back on us if we play the game fair by that kid." - -The Worst Bad Man nodded grave approval to these sentiments. The Wounded -Bad man continued: - -"It sorter sets my mind back thirty-five years. My folks used to take me -to church when I was a kid. I wasn't a churchgoer by nature, but there -was one picture on the wall of that church of a naked baby lyin' in -his mother's lap, an' when the sun'd come streamin' in through them -stained-glass windows it used to light up their faces kinder beautiful. -An' yesterday mornin' when the sun"--here The Wounded Had Man stumbled -and fell once more. He picked himself up and continued wearily--"and -when the sun come streakin' over the Terrapin Tanks an' shone into that -wagon, I swear to God, Tom, it was the same two faces!" - -The Worst Bad Man made no reply. Privately he was of the opinion -that his companion was delirious. The latter's next remark, however, -precluded this idea. - -"We ain't done right by young Bob Sang-ster," he complained. "We're a -pair o' hard old skunks, Tom, an' we've kinder influenced that boy. -He ain't bad. There ain't nothin' naturally crooked in Bob. He's -just young, an' thinks he's havin' adventures an' makin' a big man of -himself. That job at Wickenburg was the first trick he ever turned. -Before you boys leave me I'm goin' to talk to Bob. I'm going to talk -while I got my voice, because by noon my tongue'll be out of kilter----" - -"I'll talk to him too," assented The Worst Bad Man eagerly. "I was -thinkin' the same thoughts as you, Bill. The last o' the godfathers -can't be no crook. Bill. He's got to do his duty by the infant." - -An hour later they arrived at the white cabin on the dry salt lake. It -was not the kind of house one sees in cities, for it was built entirely -of blocks of rock salt, of such crystal clearness that as the two -godfathers approached they could discern the vague outlines of Boh -Sangster sitting inside with the baby. The roof of the house was of -canvas, sun-baked, rotten and filled with holes. Evidently the strange -habitation had been the abode of some desert visionary, who planned to -file on the salt lake and sell his concession to the Salt Trust. - -The Youngest Bad Man gave the baby into the keeping of The Wounded -Bad Man once more, while he and The Worst Bad Man busied themselves -spreading the double blanket over the ruined canvas roofing to keep -out the sun. Next they prepared some condensed milk and set the feeding -bottle out in the hot salt gravel until it should be heated to the -right temperature. And while they waited, sitting there in silence, The -Wounded Bad Man leaned back against the salt wall and closed his tired -eyes. The Worst Bad Man stooped and took the baby from him; yet he did -not seem to be aware of this action. This was a bad sign. The Youngest -Bad Man shook his head dubiously. - -Presently The Wounded Bad Man spoke. His speech was very thick and -labored, like that of a paralyzed man. - -"Bob," he said, "I had somethin' to say to you, but I'm too weak to -preach now. Tom'll tell you. Got that Bible yet?" - -"Yes, Bill, I got it." - -"All right, Bob. I'm just goin' to find out if there's a God, and if -there is I guess he'll give me a square deal. I'm goin' to give Him -three chances to prove He's on the job, an' I got to win two heats out -o' three before I'll believe. Open that Bible, Bob, an' read me the very -first thing you see." - -The Youngest Bad Man opened the Bible and read from the Gospel according -to St. Matthew: - -"And Jesus called a little child unto Him, and set him in the midst of -them, "And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and -become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of -heaven. - -"Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same -is greatest in the kingdom of heaven. - -"And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me." - -The Youngest Bad Man closed the book. - -"Open it again," The Wounded Bad Man commanded. - -The Youngest Bad Man opened it at random and read from the Gospel -according to St. Luke: - -"And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If -thou be Christ, save thyself and us. - -"But the other answering rebuked him, saying, "Dost not thou fear God, -seeing thou art in the same condemnation? - -"And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but -this man hath done nothing amiss. - -"And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy -kingdom. - -"And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be -with me in paradise." - -"That'll do, Bob," murmured The Wounded Bad Man. "I call upon you an' -Tom to witness that I receive that woman's baby--in God's name. If -I whimper for water don't give it to me. There's blood poison in my -shoulder an' arm an' I'm goin' crazy. I'm burnin' up--but it's comin' -to me. Lord, it's comin' to me. I don't complain none, Lord, an' I thank -Thee for bringin' me this far--with the little chap--for Thy sake, Lord. -Our Father, who art--who art--who art--who art--in Heaven, blessed--I -can't remember, Bob. It's a long time.... I'll try another--" - -"He's off at last," muttered The Worst Bad Man. "It's the blood poison. -He's been dyin' since we left Malapai Springs. Listen at him, Bob. What -kind o' stuff is he talkin'?--listen!" - -They bent over The Wounded Bad Man and listened intently, for it seemed -to them he was wandering far afield in his delirium. He was. Bill -Kearny's body was dying, but his soul was wandering adown the wild and -checkered path of his career to its dim and distant starting point. - - "Now I lay me down to sleep, - - I pray the Lord my soul to keep. - - If I should die before I wake, - - I pray the Lord my soul to take." - -"God bless my father and mother and my little sister--and make me a good -boy. Amen!" - -The Worst Bad Man's face twitched a little "Good Jesus Christ!" he -murmured. The words were not a blasphemy. They fell from his blackened -lips like a benediction--in his fierce eyes a soft and human light was -beaming. "Jesus Christ _is_ good. He's slippin' it easy to old Bill. -He's made him a child again." - -Throughout the long, stifling day they sat and watched him, and when he -became delirious The Youngest Bad Man took the baby in hand, in case The -Wounded Bad Man should suddenly become violent. Late in the afternoon -when the baby had been fed and wrapped again in the blanket, preparatory -to taking the trail once more, the dying godfather rolled over and -opened his eyes. They bent to hear his last message. It was almost -unintelligible. - -"It's a Christmas baby--it belongs--in Jerus--alem. -Stick it out to--finish--good--boys--don't -let--my--godson--die--between--two--thieves-----" - -They pressed his hand. The Worst Bad Man had the pack ready and slipped -it over his weary shoulders. He reached for the baby. - -"Gimme the kid," he cried thickly. "I got ten miles left in me yet. I'll -see you across the dry lake." - -The Youngest Bad Man understood now. He handed over the baby, and -together the two godfathers passed out of the shack into the great salt -desert... And some time during the night the angels came and led Bill -Kearny into paradise. - -After leaving the cabin The Worst Bad Man, realizing that the next -ten miles of their journey across the salt lake offered free, smooth -footing, resolved to make the pace while the "going" was good. They were -no longer hampered by being forced to suit their gait to that of Bill -Kearny, and The Worst Bad Man was resolved to see his godson safe across -the dry lake before surrendering. - -He swayed considerably as he walked, but The Youngest Bad Man strode -beside him, with a hand on his arm, and helped to hold him steady. And -as they proceeded The Worst Bad Man talked to Bob Sangster. - -It was a short sermon, evolved, in terse, eloquent sentences, from out -the bitterness of The Worst Bad Man's dark past and still darker future. - -"Bill Kearny never went back on a pal, son, an' when I quit you I want -you to say, 'Well, Tom Gibbons, he never went back on a pal nuther.' -An' when you come to cash in, you want to have our godson say, 'An' Bob -Sangster, too--he never went back on a pal.' Cut out the crooked work, -son. Nobody has anythin' on you yet--start straight an' raise this boy -straight, an' if ever you spot him showin' signs o' breakin' away from -the reservation, just you remind him that a woman an' two men died to -make a man outer him. That's all. I ain't goin' to try to talk no more." - -At midnight The Worst Bad Man was very weak. He swayed and staggered and -stopped every few hundred yards to rest, but he would not give up the -baby. - -"I'll last till sun-up," he told himself; "I got to. I ain't the -quittin' kind." - -About two o'clock in the morning the moon came out; from somewhere in -the distance a coyote gave tongue, and The Worst Bad Man shivered a -little. At three o'clock they came out of the dry salt lake into the -sands again, and The Youngest Bad Man held out his arms for the baby. - -"He needs grub mighty bad," was what The Worst Bad Man tried to say, but -the words came only as an unintelligible mumble. There had been no sage -on the dry lake and they had been unable to make a fire. For two hours -the baby had been whimpering with hunger and cold. The Worst Bad Man -slipped out of his pack, gathered some dry sagebrush and lit a roaring -fire, while his youthful companion ministered to the baby. And when Bob -Sang-ster had finished The Worst Bad Man smoothed a two-foot area in -the sand, and by the light of the campfire he wrote with his finger the -words that he could not speak: - -"You carry baby. I'm good two three miles more with pack. I leave you -twelve miles from New Jerusalem. Don't lay up today keep moving put baby -half rations savvy." - -The Youngest Bad Man nodded. When dawn began to show in the east they -resumed the journey. After the first mile, The Worst Bad Man gave signs -that the end was coming very soon. He fell more frequently, barking his -hands and knees, filling his mouth and eyes with sand, tearing his -flesh in the catclaws. Weary, monotonous gasps came from his constricted -throat, but still he staggered along, although his strength had been -gone for hours. He was traveling on his nerve now. - -Slowly the dawnlight crept over the desert, softening with its magic -beauty the harsh empire of death. The Worst Bad Man saw the rosy glow -lighting up the saturnine face of the witch of Old Woman Mountain, and -was content. He had promised himself to last till dawn. He had kept his -word. - -He sank to his knees in the sand. Bob, Sangster stooped and lifted him -to his feet. He staggered along a few yards and fell again, and when -Bob Sangster would fain have lifted him once more, The Worst Bad Man -motioned him back with an imperious wave of his hand, for he did not -want the boy to waste his strength. He tried to protest verbally, but a -horrible sound was all that came from his swollen mouth. - -The Youngest Bad Man tarried for a moment, irresolute, standing over -him. The Worst Bad Man deliberately removed his hat and handed it to the -young godfather, who took it, fitted a branch of sagebrush with three -forks at one end into the crown of the wide-brimmed hat, and thus -constructed a sort of crude parasol wherewith to keep the sun from the -baby. The Worst Bad Man nodded his approbation, and Bob Sangster lowered -the baby until its soft little face brushed the bloody bristles on -The Worst Bad Man's cheek; a handclasp--and the last of the godfathers -turned his young face toward New Jerusalem and departed into the eye of -the coming day. - -The Worst Bad Man watched him until he disappeared into the neutrals of -the desert before he turned his head to glance back, along the trail by -which they had come. Away off to the southwest, forty miles away, the -Cathedral Peaks lifted their castellated spires, and the gaze of the -stricken godfather went no farther. The Cathedral Peaks--how like -a church they seemed, standing there in the solitude, sublime, -indestructible, eternal, gazing down the centuries. The Worst Bad Man -was moved to solemn thought--he who had so little time for thought now. -His mind harkened back to the scene in the salt house on the dry lake, -to Bill Kearny's challenge to the Omnipotent, to the answers that came -to that anguished soul crying in the wilderness of doubt and unbelief; -and suddenly a great desire came over The Worst Bad Man. He, too, wanted -to know. He, too, would ask a sign. And if there was a God---- - -He stretched forth his arms toward the Cathedral Peaks. "Lord, give me a -sign," he gobbled; "let me have The Light"; and, as if in answer to -his cry, the sun burst over the crest of the Panimints, a long shaft -of light shot across the desert and painted, in colors designed by the -Master Artist, the distant spires of the Cathedral Peaks. They flamed in -crimson, in gold, in flashes of silver light, fading away into turquoise -and deep maroon, and in that light The Worst Bad Man read the answer to -his riddle. - -"Lord, I believe." The horrid gobbling broke the silence once more. -"Remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." - -And then the desert madness smote his brain, and with the sudden, -terrible strength of the maniac he scrambled to his feet and started -across the waste toward the peaks. Over the long trail to the Great -Divide he ran, with arms outstretched; and as he ran the Peaks flamed -and flickered in heliograph flashes. Perhaps they carried a message, -a message that only The Worst Bad Man could understand--the message of -hope eternal sounding down the ages: - -"Today shalt thou be with me in paradise." - -Presently The Worst Bad Man fell. It was the end. He had kept the faith. - -***** - -But Bob Sangster could not wait and watch and speculate. Time pressed; -at Terrapin Tanks he had passed his word, and he must be moving on if he -would save his godson. He had one can of condensed milk and half a quart -of water left. It behooved him to hurry. - -When the sun was an hour high and the desolate landscape lay baking and -shimmering round him, he crept into the meager shadow of a palo-verde -tree, undressed the infant, rubbed him with the last of the olive oil -and threw the bottle away. Then with new, fresh garments carried from -Terrapin Tanks he dressed the baby. He wet his bandana handkerchief and -washed the little red face. He was preparing for the final dash. - -He abandoned the supply of mesquit-bean bread and jerked beef, the -Bible, and Doctor Meecham's invaluable work on Caring for the Baby. -He considered a moment, and decided to abandon also the heavy woolen -blanket in which they had been carrying the baby. It mea'nt six pounds -less weight, and unless they made New Jerusalem before sundown Robert -William Thomas would not need it. With or without blankets, they would -both sleep cold under the stars tonight, for Bob Sang-ster was once more -confronted by the primal necessity of his calling. He had to "take a -chance." - -He was about to discard his six-shooter and belt, but a stealthy crackle -in the sagebrush caused him to reconsider. He watched the spot whence -the sounds came and presently he made out the form of a coyote. The -brute was sitting on his hunkers, his red tongue lolling out of the -corner of his mouth, his glance fixed in lazy appraisal upon the last of -the godfathers and the bundle that he carried. - -The boldness of the beast was an insult in itself. It drove Bob Sangster -wild with anger. With marvelous brute intelligence the coyote had sensed -the weakness of the man, and patiently he had set himself the task of -shadowing him to the finish. He sat there now--waiting. In his contempt -for the hereditary enemy the gray skulker did not even trouble to -conceal his intentions. - -"So you're hangin' round for the pickin's already," snarled Bob -Sangster, and fired. The coyote turned a somersault and crawled away -through the sage, dragging its hindlegs after it, and two more coyotes -sprang up at the sound of the shot and scurried out of range. - -"You think I'll drop this boy, don't you?" raved the godfather, blazing -away at the fleeing enemy long after it was out of range. He seized -Robert William Thomas and, holding his hat parasol over the child, -hurried along toward the mouth of a draw. He was getting in among the -low, black, volcanic hills and lava beds again, and the reflected heat -was terrible. Cautiously he made his way along the shady side of the -canon, and for an hour he progressed thus until the sun, having risen -higher, sought him out. - -Horned toads and lizards scuttled out of his path in fright, chuckwallas -blinked their eyes at him, a desert terrapin waddled leisurely by, and -once, gazing back over the trail, he saw that the coyotes had recovered -from their fright and were following him again. He commenced to see -mirages--wonderfully beautiful little lakes, fringed with palms and -bright-green rushes. Distinctly he heard the pleasant murmur of water -tumbling over rocks. He was tempted to pause and search for this purling -brook, but his common-sense warned that it was all a delusion of the -heat and his own imagination. He knew that the sun was getting him fast, -that he was drying up. - -"Cactus," he kept repeating to himself, as if in that one word he -held the open sesame of life; "just one niggerhead cactus." But the -niggerhead cactus, with its scanty supply of vegetable juices, did not -grow in the country through which he was traveling, and as the slow -miles slipped behind him and his eager glance revealed the entire -absence of the shrub that meant life to him and Robert William Thomas, -the terrible uselessness of his struggle, the horrible forlornness of -his forlorn hope, became more and more apparent. The baby was whimpering -continually now, and faint blue rings had appeared under the little -sufferer's eyes. He was sick and tired and hot and itchy, and despite -the fact that the godfathers had done their best, Bob Sangster knew that -the child could not last a day longer without proper attention. It was -a miracle that he had survived thus far--a miracle only accounted for -by reason of the fact that he was a healthy, hearty twelve-pounder at -birth. The last of the godfathers tried vainly to soothe him with the -oft-successful Yeller Rose o' Texas, but he was beyond singing now, and -in the knowledge that both were going swiftly he mingled his tears with -those of his godson. Yet they were manly tears, and no taint of selfpity -brought them forth. Only it broke Bob Sangster's heart to think of his -helpless godson and of the gray scavengers skulking behind. - -Suddenly the godfather thrilled with a great feeling of relief and joy. -He had come to an Indian water sign; he read it at a glance. Five little -rock monuments in a circle, with a sixth standing off to the right -about thirty feet from the others. In that direction the water lay, and -bearing due southwest Bob Sangster saw a draw opening up. The journey -would take him a mile or two out of his way, but what mattered a mile or -ten miles, provided he found water? The prospect gave him renewed hope -and strength. He forged steadily ahead and when the canon narrowed he -knew he was coming to a "tank." Up the wash he ran and sank, sobbing, on -the edge of the water-hole. It was quite dry. - -It was a long time before he could gather his courage together and -depart down the canon again. He had traveled two miles for nothing! He -wept anew at the thought, marveling the while that there should be so -much moisture still in his wretched body. - -At the mouth of the canon he halted and prepared the last of his -condensed milk and water for the baby. When he proffered it, however, -the child screamed and refused the horrid draught, and as he lay on the -man's knees with his little mouth open Bob Sangster dropped in the last -dregs of his canteen. - -"You need water, too, son," he mumbled sadly. "This sweet dope is -killin' you." - -He replaced the feeding bottle in his pocket, paused long enough to -kill another coyote that had ventured too close, and resumed his journey -toward New Jerusalem. He had left the dry tank at noon. At one o'clock -he was two miles nearer New Jerusalem; at three o'clock he was within -five miles of the camp and had fallen for the first time. But even as he -fell he had thrust out his left hand, thus fending his weight from -the baby, and the child had not been injured. So the godfather merely -covered the child's tender head with Tom Gibbons' old hat, and together -they lay for a while prone in the sand. The man was not yet done, but he -was exhausted and half blind and very weak. He was striving to get his -courage in hand once more, and he needed a rest so badly. So he lay -there, trying to think, until presently the whimpering of the infant -aroused him, and he sat up suddenly. - -Seated in a circle, of which Bob Sangster and the baby formed the axis, -were half a dozen coyotes. They were closer now--too close for comfort -and, cowardly as he knew them to be, there were enough of them present -to fan their courage to the point where a single rush would end it. He -fired at them and they scampered away unharmed. - -"I can't shoot any more," the man wailed. "I'm goin' blind. Come, son, -we must move on or they'll get us to-night." - -He picked the child up and plodded on, and once more the coyotes fell -into line behind him. The godfather began to feel afraid of them. He was -obsessed with a horrible fear that they might sneak up and snap at him -from behind, or rush him en masse and tear the baby out of his arms. He -kept glancing back and firing at them. But all of his shots went wild -and gradually the tracing brutes grew bolder. Whenever he sat down for a -few minutes to rest they surrounded him, and it seemed to the godfather -that each time they edged in closer. He decided to save his cartridges -until the final rush. - -He tottered along until four o'clock before he fell again. This time he -twisted in time to land on his back, with the baby uppermost, and as he -lay there, stunned and shaken, the godfather was almost proud of himself -for his forethought. He closed his eyes to rid his vision of the myriads -of red, yellow and blue spots that came dancing out of the sand and -shooting into the air like skyrockets. The spots still persisted, -however--for the skyrockets were in his brain, and as he lay there it -came to him that this was to be the end after all. He was too weak to -carry the baby further. Sooner or later he would fall upon it and kill -it, so why struggle further---- - -The baby was leaving him! He could feel it being slowly dragged from his -protecting arm, and with a moan that was intended for a shriek he sat -up and reached for his gun. So close to him was the coyote, dragging -gingerly at the infant's clothing, that the godfather dared not fire. He -merely threw up his arms to frighten the beast away, and reluctantly it -trotted back and rejoined its companions of the slavering, red-tongued -circle. - -The godfather knelt in the sands beside the baby and searched for -the marks of teeth, but found none. The horror of their situation was -brought forcefully home to him now. He had hoped before, but hope was -vanished. New Jerusalem could not be more than three miles away, but -it might as well be three hundred, for Bob Sangster could never make -it with the baby. He thought no longer of life. He wanted to cheat the -coyotes, and in his agony he forgot that he was a Bad Man and cried -aloud to a Supreme Being of whom he knew nothing. - -"O God, save me, save me! Not for myself, but for this poor little baby. -I'm old and tough, Lord, but save the baby. You were a baby yourself -once, Lord, if the Bible don't lie. Now save my baby. Don't go back on -me, Lord. Help me, help me to keep my word to raise him right----" - -He clasped the child in his arms and kissed it passionately for the -first time since his assumption of the duties of a godfather And then, -because he was a fighter and could not quit while there was life within -him, he reeled onward with dogged persistence. He fixed his fading -glance on some unimportant landmark ana nerved himself to last until he -should reach it. Queer thoughts kept obtruding themselves upon him. Once -he thought a chuckwalla addressed him, saying: "Hello, Bob Sang-ster, -what are you runnin' away from? You can't dodge them coyotes. They're -goin' to get that infant, sure. Better chuck 'em the kid an' see if you -can't make it alone to New Jerusalem. That baby's weight is killin' you, -boy. After all, what is he to you? He's only a three-day-old baby. Why -don't, you drop him an' beat it in to New Jerusalem? You can make it -without the baby." - -He had cursed the chuckwalla and stamped it into the earth for the -insult. But a moment later a horned toad advised him to drink the milk -that still remained in the feeding bottle. "Of course it's none o' my -business," remarked the horned toad, "but if the baby won't drink it, -you should. It's foolish to let it go to waste. It's only a couple of -mouthfuls, but it'll give you strength to make that black lava point a -mile ahead." - -"Horned Toad," replied the godfather, "you're a sensible little critter -an' I'll take your advice. It ain't manly to do it, but nothin' matters -any more." - -He drank the milk that the baby had refused, tossed the bottle aside and -nerved himself to last until he should reach the black lava point. That -was to be the last goal. If he fell before he reached it he resolved to -climb into a palo-verde tree, wedge himself and the baby in between the -limbs, kill the baby and himself, and thus dying have the laugh on the -coyotes. - -He fell. For the third time the child escaped being crushed. The -palo-verde tree was only fifty yards away, the black lava point -seventy-five yards, but when the godfather could scramble to his feet -again he made for the palo-verde tree. Here, to his disgust, he found -himself too weak to climb the tree. So he leaned against it and wept, -dry-eyed, with rage and horror and disappointment. The horned toad had -followed and now offered more advice. - -"Sangster, you're a chump. Why climb the tree? The buzzards will get -you, so what's the difference?" - -"I'll make the lava point," replied the godfather. "They can't come at -me in back there, an' I can keep 'em away for a while anyhow." - -He lurched away. Foot by foot he approached the black lava point. He -resolved to round it; there was shade on the other side. Staggering, -reeling, muttering incoherently, he rounded the lava rock and collided -with something soft and hairy. He leaned against it for a moment, -resting, while something soft and warm and animallike nuzzled him and -nickered softly in the joy of the meeting. When Bob Sangster opened his -eyes he found himself leaning against a trembling old white burro with a -pack on his back. - -"Water," thought the godfather, "water. There ought to be a canvas -waterbag," and he went clawing along the burro's side, feeling for the -waterbag but unable to find it. The little animal was standing patiently -in the shadow of the rock, and Bob Sangster stood off and looked at him. -The burro's eyes were red and dust-rimmed; evidently he had traveled -far. His legs trembled, his tongue, dry and black, protruded from his -mouth. The burro, too, was dying of thirst. - -"You poor devil," mused Bob Sangster. He gazed at the pitiable little -animal, the while his memory strove to recall some other incident in -which a burro had figured. There had been some talk of burros recently -with Bill Kearny and Tom Gibbons. What was it? Well, never mind. It -didn't make any difference. This burro was dying and useless; there was no -water bag---- - -_And when they drew nigh unto Jerusalem... then sent Jesus two -disciples, saying unto them, Go into the village over against you, and -straightway ye shall find an ass tied...._ - -The words of the Gospel according to St. Matthew flamed in letters of -fire across the failing vision of the last godfather. He remembered now. -He had read a chapter from the Bible to Bill Kearny and Tom Gibbons back -there at Terrapin Tanks--and it was all about Christ riding into -Jerusalem on an ass. Here, in the shadow of this black lava, he had -found a burro waiting! - -Bill Kearny had asked for a sign---- - -The last of the godfathers thought of his frenzied prayer of an hour -before. He had asked for help. Could it be possible that here stood the -answer? - -"There's a chance," he mumbled. "This critter has stampeded from some -prospector's pack outfit He's been lookin' for water, and the Lord sent -him our way, sonny. He's sure sent him." - -With his free hand the godfather clawed desperately at the diamond -hitch, swept the load from the packsaddle, ripped it apart and found--a -can of tomatoes. He slashed the can open, drank some himself and gave -the balance to the burro. Then, lifting his godson into the packsaddle, -he lashed him in securely; after which he took his open pocket knife in -hand and prodded the jaded burro until it consented to move away across -the desert at a crawling, shuffling gait. Bob Sangster walked beside -the burro, one hand busy with the point of the knife, the other clinging -desperately to the rear cross of the packsaddle. His strength had, in a -measure, returned after drinking the canned tomatoes, and he fancied that -the burro too seemed rejuvenated. Bob Sangster wished he had another can -of tomatoes to offer the little beast, for the lives of himself and -his godson depended on the burro. He leaned heavily against the animal, -which half led, half dragged him along. Thus an hour passed. - -They were ascending the upraise that led to the crest of the southeast -spur of Old Woman Mountain now, and through the sunset haze the witch's -demoniac face leered down at them from the heights above. Slowly, -haltingly, they progressed up the slope. The burro was almost spent, and -time and again he balked and groaned a feeble protest He welcomed the -occasions when the godfather's weak clasp of the packsaddle was broken -and he fell headlong to earth. But if he fell, the godfather rose again, -moaning, praying, raving, and still the awful cavalcade pressed on. - -The shadows grew' long. The sun disappeared and evening settled over the -desert, but still the sorry pilgrimage continued up the slope. Now they -were half a mile from it, a quarter, two hundred yards, a hundred from -the summit--the burro grunted, shivered and lay down. In the gathering -gloom Bob Sangster felt for the ropes which bound the baby to the pack, -cut them and stood clear of the dying beast. - -"You've pulled me up the slope in the heat, old fellow," he tried to -say with lips that were split and parched and cut and bleeding. "I never -could have made it. New Jerusalem can't be far away now. I'll get there. -But----" - -He pressed the muzzle of his gun into the suffering animal's ear and -pulled. "I owed you that kindness," he mumbled, and passed on to the -crest of the slope. - -At the summit he paused, swaying gently with his precious burden, and -gazed down the other side of the spur. In a hollow a few hundred yards -below him, the lights of New Jerusalem gleamed brightly through the -gathering gloom of that lonely Christmas Eve, and the godfather recalled -the words of Bill Kearny. - -"It's a Christmas baby. God won't go back on it." - -Bob Sangster's tongue hung from his mouth, long and black and withered, -like the tongue of a dead beef, as he stood there on the outskirts of -New Jerusalem and thought of many things. Bill Kearny had been right. It -was a Christmas baby. It would pull through all right. He drew the baby -to him until their faces were very close, so close that a little hand -crept up and closed tightly over the godfather's nose. - -This was to be their last supreme moment together, for after tonight -some woman must enter into Robert William Thomas' life and Bob Sangster -could only be a partner in his godson's love. He recalled that the baby's -mother had told The Worst Bad Man they had "kin" in New Jerusalem, and -Bob Sangster wondered if she had intended that he should turn the baby -over to them. The thought appalled him, and his hot tears fell fast on -the little white face as he staggered down the grade into New Jerusalem. - -"I won't give you up," he gibbered, "I won't. You're mine. Your mother -give you to me to raise like a man, an' I'm a-goin' to do it. You're -my kid an' you're named after us three. No, no, I won't. I've died ten -thousand deaths for you--I'll work an' I'll hire a woman----" - -Fifteen minutes later a battered, bleeding, raving wreck of a man, who -hugged a bundle to his great breast, reeled into New Jerusalem and -paused in front of a hurdy-gurdy. From within came the plaintive notes -of a melodeon, and a woman--a Mary Magdalen--was singing: - -_Jerusalem, Jerusalem, lilt up your gates and sing,_ - -_Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna to your King!_ - -Bob Sangster made his uncertain way to the woman at the melodeon and -held a bundle toward her. - -"What's this?" she demanded. The last of the godfathers gobbled and -mumbled, but the words refused to come. How could the woman know what -he was trying to say? - -She unwrapped the bundle and gazed down at Robert William Thomas -Sangster. - -Who knows? Perhaps in that moment the woman, too, like The Three Bad -Men, beheld The King! - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Godfathers, by Peter B. 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