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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"Cabin Fever"


Cash cast his eyes over the stock of baby clothes which Bud
gleefully unwrapped on his bunk, and pinched out a smile under
his beard.
"Well, if the kid stays till he wears out all them clothes,
we'll just about have to give him a share in the company," he
said drily.
Bud looked up in quick jealousy. "What's mine's his, and I own
a half interest in both claims. I guess that'll feed him--if
they pan out anything," he retorted. "Come here, Boy, and let's
try this suit on. Looks pretty small to me--marked three year,
but I reckon they don't grow 'em as husky as you, back where they
make all these clothes."
"Yeah. But you ought to put it in writing, Bud. S'pose anything
happened to us both--and it might. Mining's always got its
risky side, even cutting out sickness, which we've had a big
sample of right this winter. Well, the kid oughta have some
security in case anything did happen. Now--"
Bud looked thoughtfully down at the fuzzy yellow head that did
not come much above his knee.
"Well, how yuh going to do anything like that without giving it
away that we've got him? Besides, what name'd we give him in the
company? No, sir, Cash, he gets what I've got, and I'll smash any
damn man that tries to get it away from him.


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