Again came that thin,
muffled wail, whereupon O'Reilly cried in astonishment:
"Leslie! Why, it--it's in YOUR BUNDLE!" He pointed to the formless
roll of bedding which hung from his friend's saddle-horn.
"G'wan! You're crazy!" Branch slipped to the ground, seized the
bundle in his arms, and bore it to the roadside. With shaking
hands he tugged at the knotted corners of the comforter. "Pure
imagination!" he muttered, testily. "There's nothing in here but
bedclothes. I just grabbed an armful--" The last word ended in a
yell. Leslie sprang into the air as if his exploring fingers had
encountered a coiled serpent. "Oh, my God!" He poised as if upon
the point of flight. "Johnnie! Look! It's ALIVE!"
"What's alive? What is it?"
With a sudden desperate courage Branch bent forward and spread out
the bedding. There, exposed to the bulging eyes of the onlookers,
was a very tiny, very brown baby. It was a young baby; it was
quite naked. Its eyes, exposed to the sudden glare of the morning
sun, closed tightly; one small hand all but lost itself in the
wide, toothless cavity that served as a mouth. Its ten ridiculous
toes curled and uncurled in a most amazing fashion.
"Oh, my God!" Branch repeated, aghast. "It's just b-born! Its eyes
aren't open."
The Cubans, who had momentarily been stricken dumb with amazement,
suddenly broke into voluble speech.
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