The Twins of Suffering Creek Part 43

Then he turned on Sunny, whose rebuke was still rankling. "Guess you'll say he ain't--bein' contrary. Now, ef I was was.h.i.+n' 'em, I'd--"

"Shut up," cried Wild Bill harshly. Then he added, with biting sarcasm, "I ain't surprised you're a widder-man."

Toby made no attempt to disguise his laughter, and it maddened the unfortunate Sandy; and if a look could have killed, Sunny would have died grinning. However, the widower sheltered himself in the silence demanded of him until the children were lifted out of the tub and dried by their patient father. Nor did he even attempt to further interfere while their parent struggled them into their little woolen unders.h.i.+rts.

CHAPTER XXIV

--A BIBLE TALK

It was with a sigh of relief that Scipio now turned to Wild Bill.

Somehow, he naturally looked to him for guidance. Nor did he quite know why.

"'Bout that Bible talk?" he inquired. "Guess you said they best set around in the sun."

Bill nodded.

"I sure did. Guess they kind o' need airin' some. 'Tain't no use in settin' in their clothes damp; they'll be gettin' sick, sure. Ther's a dandy bit o' gra.s.s right here. Best set 'em down, an' get around an'

hand 'em your talk."

But the worried father pushed his weedy hair off his forehead with a troubled air.

"I haven't read up a deal," he apologized.

The gambler promptly swept his objection aside.

"That don't figger any. Once you get goin' you won't find no trouble.

It's dead easy after you're started. That's the way it is with pa.s.sons. They jest get a holt of a notion, an' then--why, they jest yarn."

"I see," replied Scipio doubtfully, while the other men gathered round. "But," he went on more weakly still, "'bout that notion?"

Bill stirred impatiently.

"That's it. You start right in with the notion."

"Course," cried Sandy. "The notion's easy. Why, ther's heaps o' things you ken take as a notion. Say, wa'an't ther' a yarn 'bout some blamed citizen what took to a cave, an' the checkens an' things got busy feedin' him?"

"Ravens," said Sunny.

"Ravens nuthin'," cried the indignant Sandy. "Checkens of the air, they was."

Sunny shrugged.

"That ain't no sort o' Bible talk, anyway," he protested. "You need suthin' what gives 'em a lesson. Now, ther's Nore an' his floatin'

ranch--"

"That wa'an't a ranch neither," contradicted Sandy promptly. "It was jest a barn."

"Ark," said Toby.

"Wal, ark then," admitted Sandy. He didn't mind Toby's interference.

But the discussion was allowed to go no further. Bill's impatience manifested itself promptly.

"Say, it don't matter a cuss whether it was an ark or a barn or a ranch. Sunny's yarn goes. Now, jest set around an' git the kids in the middle, an' you, Zip, git busy with this Nore racket."

The last authority had given its decision. There was no more to be said, and the matter was promptly proceeded with. The expectant children, who had stood by listening to the discussion of their elders, were now seated on the gra.s.s, and before them sat the board of Scriptural instruction. Bill remained in his position on the tree-trunk. On the ground, cross-legged, sat Scipio, on his right.

Sunny lounged full length upon the ground next to him. Sandy and Toby formed the other horn of the half-circle on the gambler's left.

It was a quaint picture upon which the warm noon sun shone down. The open gra.s.s clearing, surrounded with tall dense bushes. On one side the wash-tub and the various appurtenances of the bath, with the creek a little way beyond. And in the open, sitting alone, side by side, their little pink bodies bare of all but their coa.r.s.e woolen unders.h.i.+rts, their little faces s.h.i.+ning with wholesome soap, their eyes bright with expectancy for the story that was to come, the two pretty children of a lonely father. Then, in a semicircle about them, the members of the Trust, with their hard, unclean faces, their rough clothes and rougher manners, and their uncultured minds driven by hearts that were--well, just human.

"Git busy," ordered Bill, when the Trust had finally settled itself.

And promptly Scipio, with more determination than discretion, cleared his throat and plunged into his peroration.

His mild face beamed. Gentleness and affection shone in every line of it. And somehow his diffidence, the realization of his ignorance of the work demanded of him, were absorbed and lost to his consciousness in the wonderful parental delight of teaching his offspring.

"Say, kiddies," he began, with that soft inflection that seems so much a part of some men of rough manners, "I want you to listen careful to a yarn I'm goin' to tell you about. Y'see--"

He hesitated, and unconsciously one hand was lifted and pa.s.sed across his brow with a movement that suggested puzzlement. It was as though he were not quite sure whither his story were going to lead him.

The gambler nodded encouragingly.

"Bully," he murmured, turning his eyes just for one moment in the little man's direction. But it was only for a moment. The next he was staring absorbedly out at the bush opposite, like a man lost in some train of thought far removed from the matter in hand. His beady eyes stared unsmilingly, but with curious intentness.

However, Scipio was far too much concerned with what lay before him to think of anything else. But the sharply spoken encouragement spurred him, and he went ahead.

"Now, maybe you both heard tell how G.o.d made this funny old world for us to live in," he went on, endeavoring to give lightness to his manner. "He made Sufferin' Creek, too--"

Toby coughed, and Sandy whispered audibly to him.

"I don't guess Zip ought to run Sufferin' Creek in this yarn," he said seriously. "Sufferin' Creek don't seem right in a Bible talk."

Scipio waited, and then, ignoring the comment, labored clumsily on.

"Now, I'm goin' to tell you a yarn about it. Y'see, kiddies--y'see, ther' weren't a heap o' folk around when G.o.d first fixed things right--"

"Jest one man an' a snake," interrupted Sandy in his informative way.

"Shut up," whispered Toby, prodding him with his elbow. Sandy scowled, but remained silent.

"Wal," continued Scipio, "as I was sayin', He jest made one sort o'

sample man an' a snake. An'," he added, suddenly brightening under inspiration, "He sot 'em in a garden, an' called it the Garden of Eden."

Little Vada suddenly clapped her hands.