The Twins of Suffering Creek Part 42

"Have you give 'em their bath?" he demanded.

Scipio pointed at the stove, on which the water was already boiling.

"The water's cookin'," he said. "Guess it's most ready." The gambler glanced round the room severely.

"Then why the devil is you'se fellers settin' around? Wher's the tub?"

"Down at the creek. It's the wash-tub," Scipio explained, bestirring himself. The other men stood up ready.

There was no doubt that Bill had taken possession of the situation. He always seemed to dominate his fellows. Now he caught Scipio's eye and held him.

"Jest gather the things up quick," he said authoritatively, "an' we'll get busy."

And as Scipio heaped up the necessary articles for the bath on the table, he looked on with the keenest interest. Finally the little man paused beside the heap, holding in his hand the box of water-softener, which he was eyeing somewhat doubtfully. Bill's eyes still twinkled.

"Wot's that?" he demanded in his savage way, as though he had never seen the box before.

"That? Why, that's for bathin'," said Scipio doubtfully. "Y'see, it's a fixin' swell ladies in Noo York an' such places use for makin' their baths soft an' dandy. Sunny brought it along last night. He guessed it would be elegant for the kids. Y'see, his mother sent it a present to him. He didn't reckon he had use for it, seein' he took his bath in the creek every mornin'. He guessed natural water was best for him."

Bill snorted.

"Sunny's a bright lad," he said, while Toby softly exploded with laughter in the doorway.

But the gambler was bent on the purpose in hand, and promptly dismissed the loafer's fairy-story from his mind.

"Here, get around and bear a hand," he cried, indicating the pile on the table. "You, Toby, quit laffin' an' git a holt on them clean laundry. An' say, don't you muss 'em any. Sunny, you best pile up them washin' fixin's--that hand-scrubber, the soap, that wash-flannel an'

the towels. Guess that's the nighest you'll ever come to bathin'

yourself. Sandy Joyce ken carry the hot water, an', if Zip's yaller pup gets around, see you don't scald him any. Guess I'll handle these yer dippers. That way Zip'll be free to take the kids along. After they're bathed they ken set around in the sun, while Zip gives 'em a real elegant Bible talk."

The whole thing was simplicity itself in the capable hands of a man of Bill's energy. But for his advent the bath might have been delayed until the water on the cookstove had boiled away. What with Sandy's love of debate and Sunny's indolence, the visit of these men might have been prolonged for hours. As it was, in five minutes after Bill's appearance upon the scene the cortege was ready to set out for the water's edge; and not only ready, but more than willing to submit the all-unconscious twins to the combination of their inexperienced efforts in matters ablutionary. The one saving clause for the poor little creatures was the presence of their father and a man of practical intelligence such as the gambler. How they might have fared at the hands of the others is a matter best not contemplated too closely.

At a word from Wild Bill the procession set out. Scipio headed it, with a child clinging to each hand, doddling along at his side all blissfully unconscious, but delighted at going whither their elders led them. Vada babbled with delight, and kept up a fire of chattering questions in a truly feminine manner, while little Jamie, stolid but no less joyous, devoured everything with hungry, thoughtful eyes, and punctuated his sister's remarks with characteristic grunts, and an occasional emphatic e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n and protest at the yellow pup, who would lick his dirty legs.

Behind these came Sandy Joyce, the picture of absurd dignity, as he vainly strove to carry the boiler of water without scalding himself.

Toby came immediately behind him, with the bundle of laundry, a tumbled ma.s.s in his arms, crushed firmly to his stout chest, lest, by any ill-fate, he should drop any of the strange garments, which looked so absurdly small in his ignorant eyes.

Next came Sunny with the cleansing properties, which he carried gingerly, as though the very nature of them were repugnant to him, and the labor of carrying them an offense to his creed of life. The soap particularly troubled him. Its slippery nature made him drop it several times, till it seemed almost as though it resented him personally, and was trying to escape from the insult of such a.s.sociation. Wild Bill brought up the rear of the column, bearing the bright tin dippers, which clattered violently as they swung together on their string loops. He suggested nothing so much as a herder driving before him his unusual flock by the aid of a violent rattling on tin cans.

Solemnly the procession wound its way down the hill. Only the voices of the children, the yapping of the pup and the clatter of tinware enlivened the journey. The men's minds were engrossed with their various charges. It was serious--desperately serious. But then, a bath in any form, much less a bath of two small children, was an affair of the gravest importance to these men. Then, too, there was nervousness with it. Everybody felt responsible, from the father to the desperate instigator of what was, in their minds, something almost amounting to an outrage.

However, the windings and roughnesses of the path, as it twisted its way through the scrubby bushes lining the creek bank, were finally negotiated more or less satisfactorily. The mishaps were not as great as might have been antic.i.p.ated. Sandy only scalded himself twice, and his curses had to be stifled by a sharp reprimand from the gambler.

Toby skidded down the slope once, and only saved the laundry at the personal expense of a torn shirt and a grazed elbow. Sunny, except for his difference of opinion with the soap, enjoyed no other mishap, and Bill's only transgression was to send one of the dippers, amidst a volley of curses, hurtling at the yellow pup, who at one time threatened to upset all Sandy's dignity, and incidentally the boiling water, by getting mixed up with that worthy widower's legs.

The halt was made beside the wash-tub, and childish curiosity promptly a.s.serted itself.

"You ain't washin' more clothes, poppa?" demanded Vada, with wide questioning eyes. "Ain't this Sunday?"

"Pop-pa wash tothes," mumbled Jamie.

Sunny took it upon himself to put the matter right in the small minds.

He beamed upon the children.

"Poppa's going to wash _you_," he said, with unction.

"Wot for?" demanded Vada. "We ain't done nothin'."

"'Cos you needs it," replied the loafer, uncomfortably avoiding the blandly questioning eyes.

"Ugh!" interjected Jamie.

"We ain't as dirty as you," said Vada, after a thoughtful pause.

Sunny busied himself laying out the utensils on the gra.s.siest spot he could find. Toby glanced round after depositing the laundry department. He guffawed loudly, and went on with his work. Sunny's face went a dirty scarlet, but he refrained from retort. And promptly little Vada went on.

"I don't want bath," she protested plaintively. And Jamie chorused in with a grunt of agreement, while he busied himself trying to climb up the sides of the tub.

Scipio s.n.a.t.c.hed him away, and looked round weakly for support. It came in a sharp command from Bill, who had seated himself on a fallen tree-trunk.

"Git busy," he ordered. "Set that doggone water in the tub, an' Sunny ken dip the boiler full of cold. You boys ken do that while Zip gets the kids ready. Guess he'll likely know best wher' the strings an'

b.u.t.tons is."

His orders were silently executed by the men. But the children had no awe of the gambler, and their protests were many and querulous.

However, the tub was filled satisfactorily, and Scipio finally succeeded in fumbling the clothes off the children.

It was a curious scene. Scipio moved about with an air of the mildest perplexity. Sunny slouched through his work as though it were the hardest of labor, although he was really enjoying himself. Toby was grinning all over his face with huge enjoyment, while Sandy performed his share with such an aspect of care that his labors might have been of an absolutely epoch-making nature. Bill suggested simple authority.

The "kids" must be bathed, and he was going to see it done.

When all preparations had been made, Scipio became the chief operator, and each man took up his position where best he could witness the process. There was something so mildly stimulating to these ruffians in observing the clumsy lavering of two small children. They all appreciated cleanliness in theory; it was only the practice that they were unaccustomed to, and here it was being demonstrated before their interested eyes. They watched Scipio's efforts for some moments in silence, while he, with gentle persuasion, overcame each childish protest. He did it in such a kindly, patient way that very soon these small atoms of humanity, sitting facing each other cross-legged in the tub, gained ample confidence, and gave expression to infantile delight by splashing each other with water, and incidentally treating their father to an even less welcome bath.

They laughed and crowed and chattered while their father plied the house-flannel, and only were their piping voices quiet at such moments as their small round faces were smothered with soapsuds, or lost in the embracing folds of the none too savory cloth.

But on the part of the spectators, their interest would not permit of long silence. And it was Sandy Joyce, quite irrepressible where advice was concerned, who found it necessary to interfere.

"Ain't you rubbin' 'em too hard?" he questioned, after prolonged cogitation.

Scipio turned to reply in the midst of swabbing Jamie's lower limbs.

He was holding one foot dangerously high in the air, and the movement caused him to upset the child's balance, so that his upper part promptly disappeared beneath the frothing suds. A wild splashing and yell from Vada warned her father of the threatened tragedy, and Jamie was hauled up, coughing and spluttering. The little man, with scared face, sought at once to pacify the frightened child, while Sunny withered the interfering widower with a few well-chosen words.

"Say, you'd b.u.t.t in an' tell folk they wasn't nailin' up your coffin right," he cried angrily. "Will you kep that instrument o' foolishness o' yours quiet fer ten minutes?"

Sandy flushed.

"They ain't got hides like hogs," he grumbled. "They needs handlin'

easy. Say, jest look what he's doin' now. What's--"

He broke off, and all eyes watched Scipio's movements as he turned Jamie over, and, supporting his dripping body in the crook of his arm, plied the flannel upon the boy's back. The moment was a tense one.

Then a sigh of relief went up as the child dropped back in the water with a splash.

"I ain't never see kids handled that way," cried the disgusted Sandy, unable to keep silence any longer. Then, as no one seemed inclined to question his statement, he went on, "Wot I sez is, kids needs women-folk to do they things right. Zip's handlin' 'em like raw beef."