he bring a nightie?" said Keno.

"Forgot it, I reckon," answered Jim, as he took the tired little chap
in his arms. "If only I had the enterprise I'd make him one to-night."

But it never got made. The pretty little armful of a boy went to sleep
with all his baby garments on, the long "man's" trousers and all, and
Jim permitted all to remain in place, for the warmth thereof, he said.
Into the bunk went the tiny bundle of humanity, his doll tightly held
to his breast.

Then Jim sat down and watched the bunk, till Keno had come inside and
climbed in a bed and begun a serenade. At twelve o'clock the miner was
still awake. He went to his door, and, throwing it open, looked out at
the great, dark mountains and the brilliant sky.

"If only I had the steam I'd open up the claim and make the little
feller rich," he drawled to himself. Then he closed the door, and,
removing his clothing, got into the berth where his tiny guest was
sleeping, and knew no more till the morning came and a violent knocking
on his window prodded his senses into something that answered for
activity.

"Come in!" he called. "Come in, and don't waste all that noise."

The pup awoke and let out a bark.

In response to the miner's invitation the caller opened the door and
entered. Jim and Keno had their heads thrust out of their bunks, but
the two popped in abruptly at the sight of a tall female figure. She
was homely, a little sharp as to features, and a little near together
and piercing as to eyes. Her teeth were prominent, her mouth
unquestionably generous in dimensions, and a mole grew conspicuously
upon her chin. Nevertheless, she looked, as Jim had once confessed,
"remarkly human." On her head she wore a sun-bonnet. Her black alpaca
dress was as styleless and as shiny as a stovepipe. It was short,
moreover, and therefore permitted a view of a large, flat pair of shoes
on which polish for the stovepipe aforesaid had been lavishly coated.

It was Miss Doc Dennihan. Having duly heard of the advent of a quaint
little boy, found in the brush by the miner, she had come thus early in
the morning to gratify a certain hunger that her nature felt for the
sight of a child. But always one of the good woman's prides had been
concealment of her feelings, desires, and appetites. She had formed a
habit, likewise, of hiding not a few of her intentions. Instead of
inquiring now for what she sought, she glanced swiftly about the
interior of the