FROM THE COW’S MOUTH HUNG THE CHEWED REMAINS OF THE HAT. THE COW AND THE BABY GAZED ADMIRINGLY AT EACH OTHER.
The baby was now purple in the face.
The Outlaws stood around and watched it helplessly.
“P’raps it’s hungry,” suggested Douglas.
He took up the half cake from the remains of the stores and held it out tentatively to the baby. The baby stopped crying suddenly.
“Dad—dad—dad—dad—dad,” it said tearfully.
Douglas blushed and grinned.
“Keeps on thinking I’m its father,” he said with conscious superiority. “Here, like some cake?”
The baby broke off a handful and conveyed it to its mouth.