A moment later a little woman, with gray hair and a face that might have belonged to a woman of thirty, bustled into the room.
“Ah, Seth,” she cried affectionately, “you jest set to it to spoil your old mother.” Then her eyes fell on the figure on the kitchen table. “La sakes, boy, what’s—what’s this?” Then as she bent over the unconscious child. “Oh, the pore—pore little beauty!”
Rube turned away with a chuckle. His practical little wife had been astonished out of her wits. And the fact amused him immensely.
“It’s a gal, Ma,” said Seth. He too was smiling.
“Gracious, boy, guess I’ve got two eyes in my head!”
There was a long pause. Ma fingered the silken curls. Then she took one of the cold hands in hers and stroked it softly. 53
“Where—where did you git her?” she asked at last.
“The Injuns. I shot Big Wolf yesterday. They’re on the war-path.”
“Ah.” The bright-eyed woman looked up at this tall foster son of hers.
“War-path—you shot Big Wolf?” cried Rube, now roused to unwonted speech. “Then we’d best git busy.”