“You wouldn’t like mother,” Billy continued. “You can keep that.” He
came to Lin and placed the arrow-head in his hands, standing beside him.
“Do you like birds’ eggs? I collect them. I got twenty-five
kinds—sage-hen, an’ blue grouse, an’ willow-grouse, an’ lots more kinds
harder—but I couldn’t bring all them from Laramie. I brought the
magpie’s, though. D’you care to see a magpie egg? Well, you stay
to-morrow an’ I’ll show you that an’ some other things I got the
engine-man lets me keep there, for there’s boys that would steal an egg.
An’ I could take you where we could fire that pistol. Bet you don’t know
what that is!”
He brought out a small tin box shaped like a thimble, in which were
things that rattled.
Mr. McLean gave it up.
“That’s kinni-kinnic seed. You can have that, for I got some more with
the engine-man.”
[Illustration: Border]
[Illustration: Border]
Lin received this second token also, and thanked the giver for it. His
first feeling had been to prevent the boy’s parting with his treasures,
but something that came not from the polish of manners and experience
made him know that he should take them. Billy talked away, laying bare
his little soul; the street boy that was not quite come made place for
the child that was not quite gone, and unimportant words and confidences
dropped from him disjointed as he climbed to the knee of Mr. McLean, and
inadvertently took that cow-puncher for some sort of parent he had not
hitherto met. It lasted but a short while, however, for he went to sleep
in the middle of a sentence, with his head upon Lin’s breast. The man
held him perfectly still, because he had not the faintest notion that
Billy would be impossible to disturb. At length he spoke to him,
suggesting that bed might prove more comfortable; and, finding how it
was, rose and undressed the boy and laid him between the sheets. The
arms and legs seemed aware of the moves required of them, and stirred
conveniently; and directly the head was upon the pillow the whole small
frame burrowed down, without the opening of an eye or a change in the
breathing. Lin stood some time by the bedside, with his eyes on the
long, curling lashes and the curly hair. Then he glanced craftily at the
door of the room, and at himself in the looking-glass. He stooped and
kissed Billy on the forehead, and, rising from that, gave himself a
hangdog stare in the mirror, and soon in his own bed was sleeping the
sound sleep of health.
V
Santa Claus Lin
[Illustration: Border]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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