He leaned
over her and fanned her violently with his hat, his lips and his
eyebrows working with the complexity of his emotions. Then
suddenly he turned and ducked into the tunnel, after Bud.
Bud heard him coming and turned from his work. Cash was not
trundling the empty barrow, which in itself was proof enough that
something had happened, even if Cash had not been running. Bud
dropped his pick and started on a run to meet him.
"What's wrong? Is the kid--?"
"Kid's all right" Cash stopped abruptly, blocking Bud's way.
"It's something else. Bud, his mother's come after him. She's out
there now--laid out in a faint."
"Lemme go." Bud's voice had a grimness in it that spelled
trouble for the lady laid out in a faint "She can be his mother a
thousand times--"
"Yeah. Hold on a minute, Bud. You ain't going out there and
raise no hell with that poor girl. Lovins belongs to her, and
she's going to have him. ... Now, just keep your shirt on a
second. I've got something more to say. He's her kid, and she
wants him back, and she's going to have him back. If you git him
away from her, it'll be over my carcass. Now, now, hold on!
H-o-l-d on! You're goin' up against Cash Markham now, remember!
That girl is my girl! My girl that I ain't seen since she was a
kid in short dresses.
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