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He came trotting up to the suit case which Marie had spread wide open on the bed； stood up on his tippy toes； and peered in。 The quirky smile was twitching his lips； and the look he turned toward Marie's back was full of twinkle。 He reached into the suit case； clutched a clean handkerchief and blew his nose with solemn precision； put the handkerchief back all crumpled； grabbed a silk stocking and drew it around his neck； and was straining to reach his little red Brownie cap when Marie turned and caught him up in her arms。
〃No； no； Lovin Child！ Baby mustn't。 Marie is going to take her lovin' baby boy to find〃 She glanced hastily over her shoulder to make sure there was no one to hear； buried her face in the baby's fat neck and whispered the wonder。 〃to find hims daddy Bud！ Does Lovin Man want to see hims daddy Bud？ I bet he does want！ I bet hims daddy Bud will be gladNow you sit right still； and Marie will get him a cracker； an' then he can watch Marie pack him little shirt； and hims little bunny suit； and hims wooh…wooh； and hims 'tockins〃
It is a pity that Bud could not have seen the two of them in the next hour； wherein Marie flew to her hopeful task of packing her suit case； and Lovin Child was quite as busy pulling things out of it； and getting stepped on； and having to be comforted； and insisting upon having on his bunny suit； and then howling to go before Marie was ready。 Bud would have learned enough to ease the ache in his heartenough to humble him and fill him with an abiding reverence for a love that will live； as Marie's had lived； on bitterness and regret。
Nearly distracted under the lash of her own eagerness and the fear that her mother would return too soon and bully her into giving up her wild plan； Marie； carrying Lovin Child on one arm and lugging the suit case in the other hand； and half running； managed to catch a street car and climb aboard all out of breath and with her hat tilted over one ear。 She deposited the baby on the seat beside her； fumbled for a nickel； and asked the conductor pantingly if she would be in time to catch the four… five to the city。 It maddened her to watch the bored deliberation of the man as he pulled out his watch and regarded it meditatively。
〃You'll catch itif you're lucky about your transfer；〃 he said； and rang up her fare and went off to the rear platform； just as if it were not a matter of life and death at all。 Marie could have shaken him for his indifference； and as for the motorman； she was convinced that he ran as slow as he dared； just to drive her crazy。 But even with these two inhuman monsters doing their best to make her miss the train； and with the street car she wanted to transfer to running off and leaving her at the very last minute； and with Lovin Child suddenly discovering that he wanted to be carried； and that he emphatically did not want her to carry the suit case at all； Marie actually reached the depot ahead of the four…five train。 Much disheveled and flushed with nervousness and her exertions； she dragged Lovin Child up the steps by one arm； found a seat in the chair car and； a few minutes later； suddenly realized that she was really on her way to an unknown little town in an unknown part of the country； in quest of a man who very likely did not want to be found by her。
Two tears rolled down her cheeks； and were traced to the corners of her mouth by the fat； investigative finger of Lovin Child before Marie could find her handkerchief and wipe them away。 Was any one in this world ever so utterly； absolutely miserable？ She doubted it。 What if she found Buddrunk； as Joe had described him？ Or； worse than that； what if she did not find him at all？ She tried not to cry； but it seemed as though she must cry or scream。 Fast as she wiped them away； other tears dropped over her eyelids upon her cheeks； and were given the absorbed attention of Lovin Child； who tried to catch each one with his finger。 To distract him； she turned him around face to the window。
〃See all thepitty cows；〃 she urged； her lips trembling so much that they would scarcely form the words。 And when Lovin Child flattened a finger tip against the window and chuckled； and said 〃Ee？ Ee？〃which was his way of saying seeMarie dropped her face down upon his fuzzy red 〃bunny〃 cap； hugged him close to her； and cried； from sheer； nervous reaction。
CHAPTER THIRTEEN。 CABIN FEVER IN THE WORST FORM
Bud Moore woke on a certain morning with a distinct and well… defined grouch against the world as he had found it； a grouch quite different from the sullen imp of contrariness that had possessed him lately。 He did not know just what had caused the grouch； and he did not care。 He did know； however； that he objected to the look of Cash's overshoes that stood pigeon…toed beside Cash's bed on the opposite side of the room； where Bud had not set his foot for three weeks and more。 He disliked the audible yawn with which Cash manifested his return from the deathlike unconsciousness of sleep。 He disliked the look of Cash's rough coat and sweater and cap； that hung on a nail over Cash's bunk。 He disliked the thought of getting up in the coldand more； the sure knowledge that unless he did get up； and that speedily； Cash would be dressed ahead of him； and starting a fire in the cookstove。 Which meant that Cash would be the first to cook and eat his breakfast； and that the warped ethics of their dumb quarrel would demand that Bud pretend to be asleep until Cash had fried his bacon and his hotcakes and had carried them to his end of the oilcloth…covered table。
When； by certain well…known sounds； Bud was sure that Cash was eating； he could； without loss of dignity or without suspicion of making any overtures toward friendliness； get up and dress and cook his own breakfast； and eat it at his own end of the table。 Bud wondered how long Cash； the old fool； would sulk like that Not that he gave a darnhe just wondered； is all。 For all he cared； Cash could go on forever cooking his own meals and living on his own side of the shack。 Bud certainly would not interrupt him in acting the fool； and if Cash wanted to keep it up till spring； Cash was perfectly welcome to do so。 It just showed how ornery a man could be when he was let to go。 So far as he was concerned； he would just as soon as not have that dead line painted down the middle of the cabin floor。
Nor did its presence there trouble him in the least。 Just this morning； however； the fact of Cash's stubbornness in keeping to his own side of the line irritated Bud。 He wanted to get back at the old hound somehowwithout giving in an inch in the mute deadlock。 Furthermore； he was hungry； and he did not propose to lie there and starve while old Cash pottered around the stove。 He'd tell the world he was going to have his own breakfast first； and if Cash didn't want to set in on the cooking； Cash could lie in bed till he was paralyzed； and be darned。
At that moment Cash pushed back the blankets that had been banked to his ears。 Simultaneously； Bud swung his feet to the cold floor with a thump designed solely to inform Cash that Bud was getting up。 Cash turned over with his back to the room and pulled up the blankets。 Bud grinned maliciously and dressed as deliberately as the cold of the cabin would let him。 To be sure； there was the disadvantage of having to start his own fire； but that disagreeable task was offset by the pleasure he would get in messing around as long as he could； cooking his breakfast。 He even thought of frying potatoes and onions after he cooked his bacon。 Potatoes and onions fried together have a lovely tendency to stick to the frying pan； especially if there is not too much grease； and if they are fried very slowly。 Cash would have to do some washing and scraping； when it came his turn to cook。 Bud knew just about how mad that would make Cash； and he dwelt upon the prospect relishfully。
Bud never wanted potatoes for his breakfast。 Coffee； bacon； and hotcakes suited him perfectly。 But just for meanness； because he felt mean and he wanted to act mean； he sliced the potatoes and the onions into the frying pan； and； to make his work artistically complete； he let them burn and stick to the pan； after he had his bacon and hotcakes fried； of course！
He sat down and began to eat。 And presently Cash crawled out into the warm room filled with the odor of frying onions； and dressed himself with the detached calm of the chronically sulky individual。 Not once did the manner of either man betray any consciousness of the other's presence。 Unless some detail of the day's work compelled them to speech； not once for more than three weeks had either seemed conscious of the other。
Cash washed his face and his hands； took the side of bacon； and cut three slices with the precision of long practice。 Bud sopped his last hotcake in a pool of syrup and watched him from the corner of his eyes； without turning his head an inch toward Cash。 His keenest desire； just then； was to see Cash when he tackled the frying pan。
But Cash disappointed him there。 He took a pie tin off the shelf and laid his strips of bacon on it； and set it in the oven； which is a very good way of cooking breakfast bacon； as Bud well knew。 Cash then took down the little square baking pan； gr