“It’s all right, father,” Seth reassured him. “The troops are on the trail.”
There was another considerable pause while all eyes were turned on the child. At last Mrs. Sampson looked up.
“Who is she?” she asked.
Seth shook his head.
“Don’t know. Maybe she’s yours—an’ mine.”
“Don’t you know wher’ she come from?”
Again Seth shook his head.
“An’—an’ what’s her name?”
“Can’t say—leastways her initials are M. R. You see I got her from—there that’s it. I got her from the Rosebuds. That’s her name. Rosebud!”