The Twins of Suffering Creek Part 44

"Yes, an' it was all flowers an'--an' fruit," she cried ecstatically.

Jamie's eyes were dancing with delight, too, but he remained silent, waiting for developments.

The members of the Trust looked on with the deepest interest. Each man's face wore a half-smile--that is, all except the gambler's, who still appeared to be absorbed in his own thought--and the bush opposite. But the interest of these men was less in the little man's story than in a speculation as to when he was going to break down, and yield his tutelary att.i.tude before a battery of infantile questions.

However, Scipio was still in a fairly strong position.

"Well," he agreed, "I do guess ther' was fruit ther', but I don't guess it was a fruit ranch exactly. Maybe it was sort of mixed farmin'. Howsum, that don't matter a heap. Y'see, ther' was heaps an'

heaps of animals, an' bugs, an' spiders, an' things--an' jest one man."

"Ther' was a woman," corrected the irrepressible Sandy. "That's dead sure. They got busy on one of the man's ribs an' made her. Ain't that so, Toby?"

He turned to the squat figure beside him for corroboration, but Sunny took up the matter from across the semicircle.

"You're a wise guy," he exclaimed scornfully. "Can't you kep from b.u.t.tin' in? Say, I'd hate to know sech a heap as you."

Just for an instant Wild Bill turned his sharp eyes on his companions.

"Shut up you'se all," he cried. And promptly Scipio was allowed to continue his story.

"Now, 'bout that garden," he said thoughtfully. "Y'see, G.o.d told that feller he wasn't to pick no fruit. Y'see, I guess it was needed fer cannin' or preservin'. Maybe it was needed for makin' elegant candy. I don't know rightly--"

"You're talkin' foolish," exclaimed Sandy, jumping up excitedly.

"Cannin'?" he cried scornfully. "They didn't can fruit them days."

"Maybe you're right," said Scipio apologetically.

"I know I am," snorted Sandy.

"Then shut up," cried Bill, without turning his head.

"Anyhow," went on Scipio, when all argument had ceased, "it was jest up to that feller not to pick that fruit. An' he didn't mean to neither, only he got kind o' friendly with that snake--"

Little Vada jumped up.

"I know--I know," she cried, in the wildest excitement. "The snake made him eat an apple, an' then the rain came down, an' poured an'

poured--"

"Poured an' poured," echoed Jamie, jumping to his feet and dancing around his sister.

"That's so," admitted Scipio, in relief.

"Poured nothin'," murmured Sandy under his breath. "He's messin' up the whole yarn."

But as his comment didn't reach the father's ears he went on placidly.

"Wal, the rain poured down," he said, "so they was nigh drownded--"

"Why'd the rain tum?" suddenly inquired Jamie with interest.

"Ah!" murmured Scipio. Then he added brightly, "Because he picked the fruit."

"Y'see," explained Vada, with sisterly patronage, "he didn't orter picked the apple."

Jamie nodded without understanding.

"'Ess."

"Wal," went on Scipio, taking advantage of the pause, "he was nigh drownded, an' he had to swim an' swim, an' then he built himself a ranch."

"Barn," cried Sandy, unable to keep quiet any longer. "It was a barn to kep his stock in."

"Ark," said Toby decidedly. "He built a Nore's Ark--same as toys kiddies plays with."

"But Bill said Sunny's yarn goes," protested the troubled Scipio. And, receiving an affirmatory nod from the preoccupied gambler, he went on.

"Wal, he set that ranch afloat, an' put out a boat an' rescued all the other animals, an' bugs, an' spiders, an' things, an' then set out a duck to see how things was going--"

"Not a duck, Zip," said Sunny, shaking his head sorrowfully.

"Course not," agreed Sandy scornfully.

"Pigeon," suggested Toby.

But little Vada saved the situation. She jumped to her feet, dragging Jamie with her. Her dark eyes were shining, and her round little cheeks were scarlet with excitement.

"It wasn't a duck, nor a pigeon, nor nothin' but a parrot," she declared. "Momma told us. He sent out a parrot; an' it flew, an' flew, an' flew. An' then it come back to the ark, carryin' a tree in its beak. An' then Nore knew there wasn't no more rain, nor nothing, an'

they turned his wife into a pillow o' salt 'cos she'd made him eat the apple. An', pop-pa, tell us another."

"'Ess, a nudder," cried Jamie, his chubby fat legs wabbling under him as he danced about--"a nudder--a nudder--a nud--"

But his lisping request was never completed, for, without a word of warning, Wild Bill suddenly leapt from his seat, and, with a wave of his arm, swept the two children sprawling into their father's lap, while he charged across the clearing. Just for a fraction of a second he paused as he closed on the bush he had so long contemplated, and his friends heard his voice in a furious oath.

"You son of a--!" he roared; and simultaneously there was a flash and a sharp report from his gun--another, and yet another. Then he vanished into the bush, his smoking revolver still in his hand ready for use, followed, with no less speed, by Toby and Sandy Joyce.

For a moment Scipio stared; but Sunny Oak seemed to grasp something of the situation. He flung himself before the two children, his right hand gripping a revolver which he always carried concealed amongst his rags. And at the same moment the gambler's voice came back to him.

"Huyk them kids right back to the store, an' kep 'em there!" it cried.

And instantly the indolent loafer, with a movement almost electrical in its swiftness, seized Vada in his arms and dashed off up the hill, followed by the little father, bearing the screaming Jamie in his.

Inside the bush the three men searched, with eyes and ears alert in the fashion of furious terriers. The branches and inner leaves were spattered with blood, showing that the gambler's shots had taken some effect. The ground, too, was covered with footprints.

With a rush Bill set off trailing the latter, and so soft was the ground that he had little or no difficulty in the matter. The trail took them along the creek bank, and here and there a splash of blood warned them that their quarry was severely wounded.

But, even so, they were doomed to disappointment. Thirty yards from the clearing they came to a spot where the moist soil was well beaten with horse's hoofs, and here the human footprints ended. All three men stared out down the creek. And then it was that another furious oath escaped the gambler's lips, as he beheld a racing horseman making good his escape, more than a hundred yards below them.

For some moments Wild Bill stood raging impotently. Then he turned on his companions, with a perfect devil glaring out of his ferocious eyes.

"G.o.d's curse light on 'em!" he roared. "It's James' gang. May his soul rot. I'll get 'em! I'll get 'em! They're after those kids. But, by the wall-eyed Mackinaw, they shan't touch a hair o' their heads as long as I'm a livin' man. It's war, boys! D'ye hear? It's him an' me. Me--an'

James! An' I swar to G.o.d he'll go down an' out as sure as my name's Wild Bill!"