"There ain't no doubt 'bout what the woman said to him, or what made him yell an' git, boys," said Chagres Charley, solemnly, as he took a blanket from his shoulders and spread it on the ground.
Mississip took off his hat, and lifting the poor Mexican from the snow, laid him in the blanket. Lynn Taps hid the baby, rewrapped, under his own blanket, and hurried down the mountain, while four men picked up Codago and followed.
Lynn Taps scratched on the rawhide door; the doctor opened it.
Lynn Tapps unrolled the bundle, and its occupant again raised its voice.
The woman, who was lying motionless and with closed eyes, sprang to her feet in an instant, and as Lynn Taps laid his burden on the blankets, the woman, her every dull feature softened and lighted with motherly tenderness, threw her arms about the astonished Yankee, and then fell sobbing at his feet.
"You've brought her the only medicine that'll do her any good," said the doctor, giving the baby a gentle dig under the ribs as he picked up his saddle-bags.
Lynn Taps made a hasty escape, and reached the saloon, which had been hurriedly opened as the crowd was heard approaching.
The bearers of the body deposited it gently on the floor, and the crowd filed in quietly.
Lynn Taps walked up to the bar, and rapped upon it.
"Walk up, boys," said he; "fill high; hats off. Here's Codago. Maybe he didn't have a soul, but if he didn't, souls ain't needed in this world. Buttoms up, every man."