The morning that Traynor was due at the ranch with his family, the men
and Fong were up long before daybreak. Inside and out, the ranch had
been scrutinized mercilessly, to see if everything was in perfect order.
Fong's pigtail jerked like an expiring rattlesnake, as he rushed here
and there, putting the final touches to a meal which was to be the
culinary achievement of his life.
When the carriage was finally driven into the stable, the men crowded
around, talking and laughing, asking questions but not waiting replies,
until Traynor piloted his wife and baby into the house; Jamie lingered
with his friends.
There was a joyful reunion between the child and the greyhounds which
had been shut in the corral. Then, surrounded by the leaping, yelping
pack, Jamie and the men turned to Gov'ner's stall. The door was opened
by Limber, and they all stood waiting till Jamie called to the horse,
"Gov'ner! I'm back home again!"
Gov'ner's head flung up alertly, his nostrils distended, his eyes shone;
then as he saw the little chap outside the stall the horse whinnied,
tossed his head and pranced through the door. The proud head lowered as
the horse reached the child, and the lips nipped playfully at Jamie's
coat, while the boy laughed in delight, petting the satiny neck, as he
said triumphantly, "You see, he didn't forget me while I was away."
It was a new Jamie that had come back to them. For sometime Powell had
been studying the cause of the boy's retarded recovery, and had finally
concluded it was due to other reasons than the tubercular tendency. He
had not suggested this to Traynor until consultation with two noted
specialists, had confirmed his diagnosis. After the operation which was
found necessary, the lad's improvement was astonishing; so when he
reached the Diamond H, nothing more was necessary than outdoor life in
the high, dry climate and plenty of nourishing food, to make him a
normally healthy boy.
Traynor joined the boys as they watched the reunion of Gov'ner and the
child. Then he asked, "Don't you boys intend to come in and meet the new
Boss and his mother? They're expecting you."
Without hesitation the men followed him into the living room where the
young mother, with the baby on her lap, waited the homage she knew would
be accorded freely by these loyal friends.
Cautiously they all approached and regarded the small atom of humanity
that gazed back at them with serene eyes.
"Feel how heavy he is," offered Nell, holding the infant toward them.
Each one shrunk back a bit and their eyes shifted to each other.
"Take him, Bronco. He won't bite;" laughed Nell.
Bronco edged back of Limber, as he replied, "Limber's the foreman. He's
got the first throw!"
Limber's arms went out, and the little mother laid the child carefully
upon them, fussing with the dainty white dress, and smiling down into
the baby face against the blue flannel shirt. As she stepped back, she
caught a passing expression on Limber's face, and her eyes grew misty.
Though he did not know it, she glimpsed Limber's soul in that moment.
The baby blinked up, then a quivering, uncertain little smile touched
his lips.
"Gee! Look at him," ejaculated Bronco. "Say, he's made friends with
Limber already. Isn't he the smart little geezer, though?"
Gaining courage the rest of the men pressed closer, and Bronco put out a
horny finger to touch the pink palm. Like the leaves of a sensitive
plant, the fingers curled tightly around the cowboy's digit, then pulled
determinedly toward a puckering mouth, while Bronco's eyes opened in
consternation.
"Say, you don't want to eat me, do you? That ain't a stick of candy!" he
pulled gently but firmly until he managed to rescue the threatened
finger, and the other men chuckled in unison.
"Ain't he got a dandy grip! He'll be able to hang onto a steer when he
gets it roped, you bet!" Roarer's squeak asserted.
"Smartest baby I ever seen," Holy pronounced oracularly, ignoring the
fact that it was the first time in his life he had ever been near a
young baby.
Fong hovered in the doorway, and as they looked up they saw a cake with
gorgeous white icing. It was Fong's only way of expressing his fealty
and congratulations. He deposited the cake on the table, and Nell beamed
on him.
"We'll make baby cut his own cake, Fong!" Then she turned, "Limber,
won't you call Allan?"
Traynor joined them, and the entire outfit stood in admiration, while
Nell held the tiny hand about the big butcher knife and thrust it into
the heart of the lacy design of icing. Fong's eyes blinked rapidly, and
he kept saying, over and over, "Velly fline blaby! Him velly fline
bloy!"
Once again Traynor brought champagne, and the glasses were lifted as he
gave the toast, "To the Boss of the Diamond H and his mother. God bless
them both!"
After that Nell got the teething-ring, and when the child grasped and
thrust it into its open mouth, the men all grinned. "He sure knows what
that is made for," chortled Bronco, "an' that's more'n we knowed till
Fong tol' us."
They bombarded Nell with questions regarding his weight, how soon he
would acquire real teeth, and how long before he would be wearing
trousers. They were thirsting for information regarding infantile
development, and when Roarer, in an off-hand manner, referred to his
"sister's twins in Texas," they looked at him with envious eyes. Roarer
did not disclose that said twins were almost as old as himself. He
dilated on various events in their careers, which he remembered hearing
the aforesaid twins relate themselves. He cudgeled his brain for
historic data.
The boys were feeling very much at home, when the baby began to squirm
uneasily in its mother's arms. Its face screwed up, its eyes squinted
and disappeared entirely, and the boys looked anxiously at Nell.
"Does he have fits?" inquired Bronco solicitously. "I know its all
right for puppies to have 'em, but does babies?"
The infant answered for himself with a sneeze, and Nell looked around at
the open window. This gave the men an excuse to plead work, and tiptoe
from the room.
Once in the stable they halted, and Bronco, still seeking information,
faced Roarer. "Say, Roarer, did your sister's twins in Texas have fits?"
"Sure," answered Roarer cheerfully. "They was so uster havin' 'em that
we never paid no attention at all when one come on. It's just like
puppies, you know. 'Twouldn't be noways natural if thar wasn't fits--an'
fleas. Don't do no hurt. Jest look at all the people that lives to grow
up, anyways!"
But that night Roarer borrowed the big book, telling "How to be Your Own
Doctor," which was the Court of Final Appeal for everything from cooking
recipes to getting rid of bedbugs, lawsuits and other worries, together
with a complete list of the "ills to which the human flesh is heir," and
infallible remedies for all.
The men did not know that he was studying assiduously every bit of data
obtainable regarding the diseases of infants. They wondered afterwards
at Roarer's unfailing supply of information about babies, well or ill;
but he ascribed his knowledge entirely to his associations with the
Texas Twins.
Once more the interrupted routine of ranch life was resumed and Limber
divided his time between the Diamond H and the Hot Springs. Though the
cowpuncher passed the Circle Cross at intervals he never dismounted.
Chappo and Juan kept in touch with each other, and through them Limber
and Powell knew that Glendon's wife found life more bearable since the
anxiety about Donnie had been removed. Yet she never suspected the part
that Doctor Powell and Limber had taken in forcing Glendon's
acquiescence to her wishes and plans for the boy.