All that day little Skeezucks and the pup were waiting, listening, expecting the door to open and the three small girls to reappear. They went to the window time after time and searched the landscape of mountains and snow, Tintoretto standing on his hind-legs for the purpose, and emitting little sounds of puppy-wise worry at the long delay of their three little friends. A number of the men of the camp came to visit there again that evening. "We thought little Skeezucks might be lonesome," they explained. So often as the door was opened, the pup and the grave little pilgrim--clothed these days in the little white frock Miss Dennihan had made--looked up, ever in the hope, of espying again those three red caps. The men saw the wistfulness increase in the baby's face. "We've got to keep him amused," said Field. The awkward fellows, therefore, began the games, and romped about, and rode the lonely little foundling in the wagon, to the great delight of poor Miss Doc, who felt, as much as the pup or Skeezucks, the singular emptiness of her house. Having learned to laugh, little Carson tried to repeat the delights of a mirthful emotion. The faint baby smile that resulted made the men all quiet and sober. "He's tired, that's what the matter," the blacksmith explained. "We'd better be goin', boys, and come to see him to-morrow." "Of course he must be tired," agreed the teamster. But Jim, sitting silently watching, and the fond Miss Doc, whom nothing concerning the child escaped, knew better. It was not, however, till the boys were gone and silence had settled on the house that even Jim was made aware of the all that the tiny mite of a man was undergoing. Miss Doc had gone to the kitchen. Jim, Tintoretto, and little Skeezucks were alone. The little fellow and the pup were standing in the centre of the floor, intently listening. Together they went to the door. There little Carson stretched his tiny arms across the panels in baby appeal. "Bruv-ver--Jim," he begged. "Bruv-ver--Jim." Then, at last, the gray old miner understood the whole significance of the baby words. "Bruvver Jim" meant more than just himself; it meant the three little girls--associates--children--all that is dear to a childish heart--all that is indispensable to baby happiness--all that a lonely little heart must have or starve. Jim groaned, for the utmost he could do was done when he took the sobbing little fellow in his arms and murmured him words of comfort as he carried him up and down the room. The day that followed, and the day after that, served only to deepen the longing in the childish breast. The worried men of Borealis played on the floor in desperation. They fashioned new wagons, sleds, and dolls; they exhausted every device their natures prompted; but beyond a sad little smile and the call for "Bruvver Jim" they received no answer from the baby heart,