"I don't see why it couldn't be done. The men wouldn't mind and
she'd make a dandy mascot."
O'Reilly shook his head. "This isn't a baseball team. What about
the baby's mother?"
"Bullets! Fine mother SHE was, to desert her child. I'll bet she's
glad to get rid of it. People like that don't have any more
affection than--cattle. They don't deserve to have children.
What's more, they don't know how to care for them. I'd like to
raise this kid according to my own ideas." Branch's face lightened
suddenly. "Say! I've just thought of a name for her!"
"What?"
"Bullets!"
"Are you swearing or naming her?"
"Wouldn't that be a good name? It's new, and it means something.
Raid, battle, rain of bullets! See? Bullets Branch--that doesn't
sound bad."
With deliberate malice O'Reilly said, gravely: "Of course, if you
adopt her, you can name her what you choose--but she's a mighty
brown baby! I have my suspicions that--she's a mulatto." Branch
was shocked, indignant. "That child's as white as you are," he
sputtered. Then noting the twinkle in O'Reilly's eyes he turned
away, muttering angrily.
Strangely enough, Leslie's fantastic suggestion found echo in more
than one quarter, and many of his camp-mates began to argue that
El Demonio's baby would certainly bring the troop good luck, if it
could keep her.
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