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 anticipated. 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
asserted 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 grassiest 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 snatched him away, and looked round weakly for support. It came
in a sharp command from Bill, who had seated himsel