The Coolidge examiner., 1934-01-19

lIdppeTS CABIN HdlL mlIe youueI.
Get up, l sayw
He stopped and grasped one of
brakes arms, dragging him to his
laggard legs.
You keep by me! Don't you
dare try to quit, now, Drake! And
come fast because A little kid
in this!"
The pace he set was taxing but
the trail he broke helped the eX-
hausted man behind They dropped
down a steep slope and, beside a
fold In the snow which was a tiny
stream, came upon a small log cab
in, window gone, door sagging on
its hinges.
Here we are, Steyie" The voice
was hearty, almost laughing, now,
but the look in Flynn's eyes was
harried. Here we are!'
My foots! whimpered the child.
I'm here, Drake" said Flynn and
shouldered the door open.
Kick off your snow-shoes, you
chumpl Here hold tn laddy!"
He thrust the boy into his IA
theirs arms. The ruin Of a sheet
iron stove was in one corner, with
pipe rusted and askew but still
Jointed. A rude bunk held a deep
thickness of balsam boughs, brown
and brittle. Tearing Off an armful
Of these, Flynn thrust them into the
stove and struck a match. Soon
the twigs ignited and flames roared.
Out came Flynn's belt-ax and
crashed into the framework of the
bunk. In mere minutes lengths Of
tinder-dry aspen were burning and
then Jim stripped Off his mackinaw,
hung 1t over the window and showed
Drake away from the doorway.
The drift about the entry was
cleared, the door kicked into an
approximation of its place and then
Jim turned to the other.
Work up some more wood now.
Your cheeks frosted. but that don't
count. Here Stevie, come to
old Jim J"
"Foots!" the boy walled. My
foots ''-as his father surrendered
him.
Hurt, do they? That's good ;
that's fine, Steviel Hands hurt,
too? Amt that great? Nothin'
frozen much about you, likely. i.
Not by hair !"
OF came the small mittens, ex-
posing redeemed hands. Then the
rubbers and socks were stripped
from his feet. They were blue,
with the toes curled up and Jim,
holding first one, then the other, in
his cupped hands blew on the dis
colored flesh, alternating this with
brisk chatting.
He had seated himself on a worn
bench and now swung the lad TO
his knees so that they faced one an
other He fumbled at his shirt,
opening the front. then ripped open
his heavy undershirt, exposing his
great chest.
In they go, Steyie! Into old
Jim's oven, now, where they'll warm
up but not so fast as TO make 'em
hurt awful" The thrust the small
feet in beneath his armpits, clamp
ing down on them and holding them
tight. NOW, tuck them cold hands
down my back. Stevie. That's the
lad! That's the little man! Now
we're going TO warm up in hurry ~
He wrapped his ponderous arms
about the small body and rocked
back and forth, grooming in a deep
rumble.
Drake, in the meantime. had
knocked more of the bunk into prop
er lengths, filled the stove and
hraced the pipe. Already the heat
was penetrating their clothing, fill.
ing the room. They were sheltered
from the wind, they had a fire, and
although little Steve still sobbed
with fright and pain, he was out OF
danger.
Never so long as he lived would
Steve Drake forget the delicious
ness of that sensation. At first he
tugged at his throbbing feet, tried
TO draw away from the clamp of
those heavy arms because the sharp
pains Of restored circulation shot
clear to his hips. But the big man
only crooned the louder and held
him closer and kept saying that the
hurt would soon be over, now, and
that 1t was good sign. He was
right. The throb and burn died out
and a tremendously sweet warmth
began to seep through the small
body. E.
Feeling so comfortable took all
the child's attention. 1t made him
needless of the things his father
| and Jim said to each other most of
the time but, of course, no boy who
is even half awake and not really
hurting could be wholly needless of
the things that boss as impor-
tant as Jim Flynn said to his ia
ther a little later
Neither can boy see his father
cry and not remember it. Drake did
just that. For long time he cried.
as a little boy might cry, as Stevie