"You've just GOT
to."
"Well, I won't. In the first place, I have a sick man in my tent."
"But look! Listen! This baby dislikes me. I've nearly dropped it a
dozen times. I--I'm going to leave it, anyhow."
But Norine remained firm in her refusal. "You sha'n't leave your
foundling at MY door. If you intend to steal babies you should
make up your mind to take care of them." She was itching to seize
the hungry little mite, but she restrained the impulse. "Go ahead
and keep it amused until the cow arrives," she told him.
"Keep it AMUSED! Amuse a starving brat!" tragically cried the man.
"In Heaven's name, how?"
"Why, play with it, cuddle it, give it your watch--anything! But
don't allow it to cry--it may injure itself."
Branch glared resentfully; then he changed his tactics and began
to plead. "Oh, Norine!" he implored. "I--just can't do it. I'm all
fagged out now, and, besides, I've got the only watch in camp that
keeps time. I didn't sleep any last night, and it'll keep me awake
all to-night. It's a nice baby, really. It needs a woman---"
Norine parted the flaps of her tent and pointed inside, where
Esteban Varona lay upon her cot. His eyes were staring; his lips
were moving. "Mrs. Ruiz and I will have our hands full with that
poor chap. For all we know, he may have some contagious disease.
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