CHAPTER VIII
OLD JIM DISTRAUGHT
For a moment Keno failed to comprehend. Then for a second after thathe refused to believe. He ran to the bunk where Jim was desperatelyturning down the blankets and made a quick examination of that as wellas of the other beds.
They were empty.
Hastening across the cabin, the two men searched in the berths at thefarther end with parental eagerness, but all in vain, the pup meantimedodging between their legs and chewing at their trousers.
"Tintoretto!" said Jim, in a flash of deduction. "He must have got outwhen somebody opened the door. Somebody's been here and stole mylittle boy!"
"By jinks!" said Keno, hauling at his sleeves in excess of emotion."But who?"
"Come on," answered Jim, distraught and wild. "Come down to camp!Somebody's playin' us a trick!"
Again they shut the pup inside, and then they fairly ran down thetrail, through the darkness, to the town below.
A number of men were standing in the street, among them the teamsterand Field, the father of Borealis. They were joking, laughing, wastingtime.
"Boys," cried Jim, as he hastened towards the group, "has any one seenlittle Skeezucks? Some one's played a trick and took him off!Somebody's been to the cabin and stole my little boy!"
"Stole him?" said Field. "Why, where was you and Keno?"
"Down to Doc's to get some milk. He wanted bread and milk," Jimexplained, in evident anguish. "You fellows might have seen, if anyone fetched him down the trail. You're foolin'. Some of you took himfor a joke!"
"It wouldn't be no joke," answered Lufkins, the teamster. "We 'ain'tgot him, Jim, on the square."
"Of course we 'ain't got him. We 'ain't took him for no joke," saidField. "Nobody'd take him away like that."
"Why don't we ring the bar of steel we used for a bell," suggested oneof the miners. "That would fetch the men--all who 'ain't gone back onshift."
"Good idea," said Field. "But I ought to get back home and eat somedinner."
He did not, however, depart. That Jim was in a fever of excitement anddespair they could all of them see. He hastened ahead of the group tothe shop of Webber. and taking a short length of iron chain, which hefound on the earth, he slashed and beat at the bar of steel withfrantic strength.
The sharp, metallic notes rang out with every stroke. The bar wasswaying like a pendulum. Blow after blow the man delivered, fillingall the hollows of the hills with wild alarm.
Out of saloons and houses men came sauntering, or running, according tothe tension of their nerves. Many thought some house must be afire.At least thirty men were presently gathered at the place of summons.With five or six informers to tell the news of Jim's bereavement, allwere soon aware of what was making the trouble. But none had seen thetiny foundling since they bade him good-bye in the charge of Jimhimself.
"Are you plum dead sure he's went?" said Webber, the smith. "Did youlook all over the cabin?"
"Everywhere," said Jim. "He's gone!"
"Wal, maybe some mystery got him," suggested Bone. "Jim, you don'tsuppose his father, or some one who lost him, come and nabbed him whileyou was gone?"
They saw old Jim turn pale in the light that came from across thestreet.
Keno broke in with an answer.
"By jinks! Jim was his mother! Jim had more good rights to the littlefeller than anybody, livin' or dead!"
"You bet!" agreed a voice.
Jim spoke with difficulty.
"If any one did that"--he faltered--"why, boys, he never should havelet me find him in the brush."
"Are you plum dead sure he's went?" insisted the blacksmith, whom thenews had somewhat stunned.
"I thought perhaps you fellows might have played a joke--taken him offto see me run around," said Jim, with a faint attempt at a smile."'Ain't you got him, boys--all the time?"
"Aw, no, he'd be too scared," said Bone. "We know he'd be scared ofany one of us."
"It ain't so much that," said Field, "but I shouldn't wonder if hisfather, or some other feller just as good, came and took him off."
"Of course his father would have the right," said Jim, haltingly,"but--I wish he hadn't let me find him first. You fellows are sure youain't a-foolin'?"
"We couldn't have done it--not on Sunday--after church," said Lufkins."No, Jim, we wouldn't fool that way."
"You don't s'pose that Parky might have took him, out of spite?" saidJim, eager for hope in any direction whatsoever.
"No! He hates kids worse than pizen," said the barkeep, decisively."He's been a-gamblin' since four this afternoon, dealin' faro-bank."
"We could go and search every shack in camp," suggested a listener.
"What would be the good of that?" inquired Field. "If the father cameand took the little shaver, do you think he'd hide him 'round here insomebody's cabin?"
The blacksmith said: "It don't seem as if you could have looked allover the house. He's such a little bit of a skeezucks."
Keno told him how they had searched in every bunk, and how the milk waswaiting on the table, and how the pup had escaped when some one openedthe door.
The men all volunteered to go up on the hill with torches and lanterns,to see if the trail of the some one who had done this deed might not bediscovered. Accordingly, the lights were secured and the party climbedthe slope. All of them entered the cabin and heard the explanation ofexactly how old Jim had found that the little chap was gone.
Webber was one of the number. To satisfy his incredulous mind, hesearched every possible and impossible lurking-place where an object assmall as a ball could be concealed.
"I guess he's went," he agreed, at last.
Then out on the hill-side went the crowd, and breaking up in groups,each with its lanterns and torches, they searched the rock-strewn slopeIn every direction. The wavering lights went hither and yon, revealingnow the faces of the anxious men, and then prodigious features of aclump of granite bowlders, jewelled with mica, sparkling in the light.
Intensely the darkness hedged the groups about. The sounds of theirvoices and of rocks that crunched beneath their boots alone disturbedthe great, eternal calm; but the search was vain. The searchers hadknown it could be of no avail, for the puny foot of man could have madeno track upon the slanted floor of granite fragments that constitutedthe hill-side. It was something to do for Jim, and that was all.
At length, about midnight, it came to an end. They lingered on theslope, however, to offer their theories, invariably hopeful, and to saythat Monday morning would accomplish miracles in the way of settingeverything aright.
Many were supperless when all save Jim and little Keno had againreturned to Borealis and left the two alone at the cabin.
"We'll save the milk in case he might come home by any chance," saidthe gray old miner, and he placed the cup on a shelf against the wall.
In silence he cooked the humble dinner, which he placed on the table infront of his equally voiceless companion. Keno and the pup went at themeal with unpoetic vigor, but Jim could do no eating. He went to thedoor from time to time to listen. Then he once more searched theblankets in the bunks.
"Wal, anyway," said he, at last, "he took his doll."