“Your off horse needs shoein’,” said Webber, quickly scanning every detail of the animals and vehicle with his practised eye.  “It’s a long pull to Fremont.  I reckon you can’t git started before the day after tomorrow.”

To a preacher who had found himself superfluous, the thought of the bill of expenses that would heap up so swiftly here in Borealis was distressing.  He was poor; he was worried.  Like many of the miners, he had worked at a claim that proved to be worthless in the end.

“I—­hoped it wouldn’t take so long,” he answered, slowly, “but then I suppose we shall be obliged to make the best of the situation.  There are stables where I can put up the horses, of course?”

“You kin use two stalls of mine,” said the teamster, who liked the looks of the three little girls as well as those of the somewhat shy little mother and the preacher himself.  “Boys, unhitch his stock.”

Field, Bone, and the carpenter, recently made tender over all of youngster-kind, proceeded at once to unfasten the harness.

“But—­where are we likely to find accommodations?” faltered the preacher, doubtfully.  “Is there any hotel or boarding-house in camp?”

“Well, not exactly—­is there, Webber?” replied the teamster.  “The boardin’-house is over to the mill—­the quartz-mill, ten miles down the canon.”

“But I reckon they could stop at Doc’s,” replied the smith, who had instantly determined that three bright-eyed little girls in red worsted caps should not be permitted to leave Borealis without a visit first to Jim and tiny Skeezucks.  “Miss Doc could sure make room, even if Doc had to bunk up at Jim’s.  One of you fellers jest run up and ask her, quick!  And, anyway,” he added, “Mr. Preacher, you and the three little girls ought to see our little boy.”

Field, who had recently developed a tender admiration for the heretofore repellent Miss Doc, started immediately.

He found old Jim and the pup already at the house where the tiny, pale little Skeezucks still had domicile.  Quickly relating the news of the hour, the messenger delivered his query as to room to be had, in one long gasp of breath.

Miss Doc flushed prettily, to think of entertaining a preacher and his family.  The thought of the three little girls set her heart to beating in a way she could not take the time to analyze.

“Of course, they kin come, and welcome,” she said.  “I’ll give ’em all a bite to eat directly, but I don’t jest see where I’ll put so many.  If John and the preacher could both go up on the hill with you, Jim, I ’low I could manage.”

“Room there for six,” said Jim, who felt some singular stirring of excitement in his veins at the thought of having the grave little foundling meet three other children here in the camp.  “I’d give him a bunk if Keno and me had to take to the floor.”

“All right, I’ll skedaddle right back there, lickety-split, and let ’em know,” said Field.  “I knowed you’d do it, Miss Doc,” and away he went.