“No, I don’t think I’ll start the little feller off with the drinkin’ example,” replied the miller.  “You’ll often notice that the men who git the name of bein’ movin’ spirits is them that move a good deal of whiskey into their interior department.  I reckon we’ll mosey home the way we are.”

“I guess I’ll join you up above,” said the fat little Keno, pulling stoutly at his sleeves.  “You’ll need me, anyway, to cut some brush fer the fire.”

With tiny Skeezucks gravely looking backward at the group of men all waving their hats in a rough farewell, old Jim started proudly up the trail that led to the Babylonian Glory claim, with Tintoretto romping awkwardly at his heels.

Suddenly, Webber, the blacksmith, left the groups and ran quickly after them up the slope.

“Say, Jim,” he said.  “I thought, perhaps, if you reckoned little Skeezucks ought to bunk down here in town—­why—­I wouldn’t mind if you fetched him over to the house.  There’s plenty of room.”

“Wal, not to-day I won’t,” said Jim.  “But thank you, Webber, all the same.”

“All right, but if you change your mind it won’t be no trouble at all,” and, not a little disappointed, the smith waved once more to the little pilgrim on the miner’s arm and went back down the hill.

Then up spoke Keno.

“Bone and Lufkins both wanted me to tell you, Jim, if you happen to want a change fer little Skeezucks, you can fetch him down to them,” he said.  “But of course we ain’t agoin’ to let ’em have our little kid in no great shakes of a hurry.”

CHAPTER V

VISITORS AT THE CABIN

When Jim and his company had disappeared from view up the rock-strewn slope, the men left below remained in a group, to discuss not only the marvellous advent of a genuine youngster in Borealis, but likewise the fitness of old If-only Jim as a foster-parent.

“I wouldn’t leave him raise a baby rattlesnake of mine,” said Field, whose watch had not been accepted by the foundling.  “In fact, there ain’t but a few of us here into camp which knows the funderments of motherhood, anyhow.”

“I don’t mind givin’ Jim a few little pointers on the racket,” responded Bone.  “Never knew Jim yet to chuck out my advice.

“He’s too lazy to chuck it,” vouchsafed the teamster.  “He just lets it trickle out and drip.”

“Well, we’ll watch him, that’s all,” Field remarked, with a knowing squint in his eyes, and employing a style he would not have dared to parade in the hearing of Jim.  “Borealis has come to her formaline period, and she can’t afford to leave this child be raised extraneous.  It’s got to be done with honor and glory to the camp, even if we have to take the kid away from Jim complete.”

“He found the little skeezucks, all the same,” the blacksmith reminded them.  “That counts for somethin’.  He’s got a right to keep him for a while, at least, unless the mother should heave into town.”