"Aren't you proud of me?" I asked, for the twentieth time. "But what delayed you so?"
"Dr. Adams' car broke down, when he was about a block from his home. He was working on it when I got there. He quick got into my car and we were halfway here when we ran out of gas. We weren't near any service station, so I had to walk about a quarter of a mile to get gas."
"If he had just started out walking from his house it wouldn't have taken him any longer to get here," I remarked.
I picked up the medical book, which somehow had found its way from cabin 3 to our living room floor, and put it into the bookcase.
"I never did get to the part in there about how to deliver babies," I observed. "I must look it up sometime."
When David and Donna were in bed I went back to cabin 3 and peeked in the door. Mrs. Watkins and the baby were both awake now; they lay against the white pillow regarding me with big, beautiful, identical pairs of dark eyes. Eugene was sitting stiffly on a chair.
"Cripes, honey!" Mrs. Watkins exclaimed, motioning me into the cabin. "Ain't it a fit, me havin' the kid in a motel! Wait'll I tell Rodney, he'll bust a gut laughin'! An' look at the kid. Ain't he a smart one? Wouldn' you swear he was lookin' right at you?"
Her huge arm curled protectively around the red, wrinkled thing beside her.
"Cripes, I think the whole thing hurt you worse'n it did me!" she exclaimed, as I sat down in a chair beside her bed. "But you sure did great, honey, and I wanna thank you."
I watched her big, moist tongue flapping as she talked. Her body, under the blankets, was almost as mountainous as it had been before.