Peter B. Kyne

“ The sun disappeared and evening settled over the desert, but still the sorry pilgrimage continued up the slope. Now they were half a mile from it, a quarter, two hundred yards, a hundred from the summit—the burro grunted, shivered and lay down. In the gathering gloom Bob Sangster felt for the ropes which bound the baby to the pack, cut them and stood clear of the dying beast.
“You've pulled me up the slope in the heat, old fellow,” he tried to say with lips that were split and parched and cut and bleeding. “I never could have made it. New Jerusalem can't be far away now. I'll get there. ”

“ The godfathers, knowing something of the biting chill of the desert nights, were grateful for the profusion of woolen clothing and delicate woolen baby blankets which their search of the tailbox had netted, and when in due course The Youngest Bad Man had succeeded in dressing the infant after a nondescript fashion of his own, The Worst Bad Man corked the olive oil bottle, wiped his hands on his trousers, and beamed with the consciousness of a duty well performed. ”

“ Is the story of The Three Bad Men—-not The Three Wise Men “What's a godfather, Bill?” The Youngest Bad Man inquired. “What job does he hold down?”
“You're an awful ignorant young man, Bob,” replied The Wounded Bad Man reproachfully. “A godfather is a sort of reserve parent who promises to renounce the devil with all his works an' pomps.”
The Youngest Bad Man smiled wanly. “Well, Bill, all I got to say is that us three're a lovely bunch o' godfathers.” ”

“ You can't dodge them coyotes. They're goin' to get that infant, sure. Better chuck 'em the kid an' see if you can't make it alone to New Jerusalem. That baby's weight is killin' you, boy. After all, what is he to you? He's only a three-day-old baby. Why don't, you drop him an' beat it in to New Jerusalem? You can make it without the baby.”
He had cursed the chuckwalla and stamped it into the earth for the insult. But a moment later a horned toad advised him to drink the milk that still remained in the feeding bottle. ”

“ The babe, wrapped in a coarse crash towel, lay in the hollow of the little mother's arm, its red, puckered little face rested on her snowy bosom, the while she gazed downward at her treasure. It came to The Worst Bad Man very suddenly that once upon a time a woman had gazed upon him with that same look of yearning and joy ineffable ”

“ He ain't bad. There ain't nothin' naturally crooked in Bob. He's just young, an' thinks he's havin' adventures an' makin' a big man of himself. That job at Wickenburg was the first trick he ever turned. Before you boys leave me I'm goin' to talk to Bob. I'm going to talk while I got my voice, because by noon my tongue'll be out of kilter——”
“I'll talk to him too,” assented The Worst Bad Man eagerly. “I was thinkin' the same thoughts as you, Bill. The last o' the godfathers can't be no crook. Bill. He's got to do his duty by the infant.” ”

“ Five little rock monuments in a circle, with a sixth standing off to the right about thirty feet from the others. In that direction the water lay, and bearing due southwest Bob Sangster saw a draw opening up. The journey would take him a mile or two out of his way, but what mattered a mile or ten miles, provided he found water? The prospect gave him renewed hope and strength. He forged steadily ahead and when the canon narrowed he knew he was coming to a “tank.” Up the wash he ran and sank, sobbing, on the edge of the water-hole. ”

“ The four galloping horsemen were abreast The Three Deuces when the cry of “Robbers!” aroused all Wickenburg. It awoke the man in the chair; and he came to his feet with the suddenness of a ferocious old dog, filled both hands and cut loose at one of the four horsemen. There was a reason for this. The elderly citizen had a deposit of three dollars and seventeen cents in the Wickenburg National. Also he possessed a fair proportion of civic pride, and the horseman upon whom he trained his hardware was carrying a gunny-sack containing a pro rata of the said elderly citizen's three-seventeen. ”

“ Bill Kearny never went back on a pal, son, an' when I quit you I want you to say, 'Well, Tom Gibbons, he never went back on a pal nuther.' An' when you come to cash in, you want to have our godson say, 'An' Bob Sangster, too—he never went back on a pal.' Cut out the crooked work, son. Nobody has anythin' on you yet—start straight an' raise this boy straight, an' if ever you spot him showin' signs o' breakin' away from the reservation, just you remind him that a woman an' two men died to make a man outer him. ”

“ He abandoned the supply of mesquit-bean bread and jerked beef, the Bible, and Doctor Meecham's invaluable work on Caring for the Baby. He considered a moment, and decided to abandon also the heavy woolen blanket in which they had been carrying the baby. It mea'nt six pounds less weight, and unless they made New Jerusalem before sundown Robert William Thomas would not need it. With or without blankets, they would both sleep cold under the stars tonight, for Bob Sang-ster was once more confronted by the primal necessity of his calling. He had to “take a chance.” ”