sounded Jim. And back came the pretty reveille in a fabric of music, indescribably interwoven; sharp and staccato from the neighboring walls; the lightest of whispers from the distance, turning and twisting upon itself and starting afresh when all seemed still.
“Say, dat is prutty!” said Ches enthusiastically. “Hit her again!”
“Young man, you can come up here whenever you feel like it in the future, but as for now, I’m for home and grub.”
“Dat ain’t so bad, neither. Der animile’s jumped me up an’ down till I cud hold more’n a man. Dis spook’s hang-out business won’t quit, will it?”
“No, sir; that’s a fixture. Hang on tight now, and I’ll race you to the cabin—one, two, three!” and away sprinted Jim down the hill trail, the burro lumbering after.
“No fair! No fair!” yelled Ches. “Yer’ve got me skate doped! T’row us a tow!”
Jim wheeled at the doorway and took in the excited, happy little figure bumping on the burro’s back. For once in his life he had the satisfaction of an indisputable proof that he had done well. With a sudden access of affection he caught the boy in his arms and stood him on the ground. “Well, here’s our home, Ches,” he said.
Home! The street Arab filled his puny chest, took a long, devouring look about him, and sought a definition of the word to make sound the lift of pride and hope that rose within him.
“Yer mean nobuddy kin chase us out of dis?”
“Nobody.”