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DON'T YOU INSULT ME NO MORE TOM GIBBONS' 
 
The 
 Three Godfathers 
 
 By 
 
 Peter B, Kyne jjr^^^- 
 
 Illustrated by Maynard Dixon 
 
 New Tork 
 George M. Doran Company 
 
 Publishers in America for Hodder^ Stoughton 
 
 
Copyright, 1912, 
 By The Curtis Publishing Company 
 
 Copyright, 1913, 
 By George H. Doran Company 
 
 -t 
 
 6^ 
 
 cr. 
 
 .^^ 
 
 3T:^^«t 
 
 • * • 
 
 • • • . '. • 
 
The Three Godfathers 
 
 To K. E. H. AND R. R. H 
 
The Three Godfathers 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ** Don't you insult me no more Tom Gibbons"... 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 "But lo! as he parted the curtains he gazed upon 
 the miracle of motherhood" !. 32 
 
 ''Over the long trail to the Great Divide he ran 
 with arms outstretched" 64 
 
 "You need water too," he mumbled — 'This sweet 
 dope is killin* you" 80 
 
The Three Godfathers 
 
The Three Godfathers 
 
 THE daylight raid on the Wicken- 
 burg National Bank had not been a 
 success. It had been well planned, 
 boldly and cleverly executed, and the four 
 bandits had gathered unto themselves quite 
 a fortune in paper money; the job had been 
 singularly free from fuss and feathers. 
 Nevertheless, as has already been stated, the 
 raid was not a success. The assistant cash- 
 ier, returning from luncheon, had, from a 
 distance of half a block, observed two 
 strangers in town. Both strangers were 
 mounted and stood on guard in front of the 
 Wickenburg National. In an alley just 
 back of the bank two saddle horses were 
 standing; and as the assistant cashier 
 paused, irresolute, two men came out of the 
 bank, mounted the two horses waiting in the 
 alley, and, followed by the men who had 
 
I ' \ ' i .' f .■ ; ' 
 
 ,\'JQ.T^^ Godfathers 
 
 been standing on watch in front of the bank, 
 rode out of Wickenburg in rather a sus- 
 picious hurry. The assistant cashier had an 
 inspiration. 
 
 "Thieves! Robbers 1 Stop 'eml" he 
 yelled. 
 
 His hue and cry aroused to action an 
 apparently inoffensive and elderly citizen 
 who was taking his siesta in front of The 
 Three Deuces saloon. Now this man in 
 front of The Three Deuces was not the 
 sheriff. He was not even the city marshal. 
 Rather he inclined one to the belief that he 
 might be a minister of the gospel — a soul- 
 trapper on guard at the portals of The 
 Three Deuces, within which, judging by 
 the subdued rattle of poker chips, ivory 
 balls and an occasional hoarse shout of 
 "Keno!" one could be reasonably certain of 
 a plethora of brands ripe for the burning. 
 The aged citizen asleep in the chair out- 
 side was arrayed in somber black, with a 
 turn-down collar and white lawn tie, a 
 
The Three Godfathers 11 
 
 "biled" shirt with a ruby stud in it, and 
 patriarchial white whiskers. But his coat, 
 of a clerical cut, effectually concealed two 
 pieces of artillery of a style and caliber 
 popularized by time and tradition in the 
 fair state of Arizona. 
 
 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 citi- 
 zen's three-seventeen. 
 
 Four Bad Men had ridden into Wicken- 
 burg that December afternoon, but only 
 
12 The Three Godfathers 
 
 three rode out. One of the three had a bul- 
 let hole through his left shoulder. The 
 man who stayed lay, thoroughly and effect- 
 ually defunct, on top of a bulging gunny- 
 sack in front of The Three Deuces. Came 
 presently the paying teller of the Wicken- 
 burg National and removed the gunny-sack. 
 Came half an hour later the coroner of 
 Wickenburg and removed the body. As for 
 the elderly citizen of deceptive appearance, 
 he walked uptown to a hardware store, re- 
 plenished his supply of ammunition and 
 returned to The Three Deuces in a highly 
 cheerful frame of mind. Here let us leave 
 him, for with this story he has nothing fur- 
 ther to do. From now on our interest must 
 center on The Three Bad Men who rode 
 out of Wickenburg headed for the Cali- 
 fornia line — which happens to be the Colo- 
 rado River. 
 
 They made their first halt at Granite 
 Tanks, twenty-five miles from Wickenburg. 
 Here they watered their horses and then 
 
The Three Godfathers 13 
 
 pressed onward toward the river. At the 
 river they found a boat, thoughtfully pro- 
 vided for just such an emergency as the 
 present. 
 
 Darkness had already settled over the 
 land when The Three Bad Men came to 
 the Colorado River. It would have been 
 wise on their part to have waited until the 
 rising of the moon, but our story does not 
 deal with The Three Wise Men. Within 
 the hour a posse might appear, and, more- 
 over. The Three Bad Men were of that 
 breed that prefers to "take a chance." They 
 rode their jaded horses into the flood until 
 the yellow waters lapped their bellies; then 
 they shot them and shoved the carcasses off 
 into the current. 
 
 ^ An hour later The Three Bad Men land- 
 ed on the California side near Bill Wil- 
 liams Mountain, filled their boat with 
 stones and sank it, and shouldering a supply 
 of food and water sufficient to last them 
 four days, headed up a long box canon that 
 
14 The Three Godfathers 
 
 led north to the Colorado Desert. They 
 made fair time after the moon came up. 
 All night long they trudged through the 
 box canon, and at daylight it opened out 
 into the waste. 
 
 ''Well, boys, I guess we're safe," re- 
 marked The Worst Bad Man, who was the 
 leader of the trio. "It's cooler in the canon, 
 so suppose we camp here. I feel like break- 
 fast and some sleep. How's your shoulder, 
 Bill?" 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man shrugged the 
 wounded member disdainfully. 
 
 "High up. Missed the bone and don't 
 amount to much, Tom. But I've bled like 
 a stuck pig and it's weakened me a little.'* 
 
 "I'll heat some water and wash it up, 
 Bill," said The Youngest Bad Man, much 
 concerned. 
 
 They made a very small fire of cat-claw 
 and ironwood, brewed a pot of coffee, 
 breakfasted, washed and dressed The 
 Wounded Bad Man's shoulder and slept 
 
The Three Godfathers 15 
 
 until late afternoon. They awoke much re- 
 freshed, ate an early supper and struck out 
 across the desert to the north, where in time 
 they would come to the Santa Fe tracks. 
 There were lonely stations out there in the 
 sands — they might be worth investigation. 
 Then on to the new mining camp at Old 
 Woman Mountain — a camp which, follow- 
 ing the whimsical and fantastic system of 
 desert nomenclature, which seems to trend 
 toward such names as Mecca, Cadiz, Bag- 
 dad, Bengal and Siam, had had bestowed 
 upon it the not inappropriate name of New 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 For a number of reasons The Three Bad 
 Men preferred to travel by night. Prim- 
 arily they were prowlers and preferred it. 
 Secondly, although one may encounter tor- 
 rid weather by day on the Colorado Desert 
 even in December, the nights, on the con- 
 trary, are bitterly cold — and The Three 
 Bad Men had no blankets. Also there was 
 this advantage about traveling at night and 
 
16 The Three Godfathers 
 
 sleeping in the shadow of a rock by day: 
 they would not meet other wanderers and 
 there would be no embarrassing questions 
 to answer respecting the hole in The 
 Wounded Bad Man's shoulder. 
 
 Consequently The Three Bad Men trav- 
 eled by night. From Mojave Tanks they 
 swung west to avoid the mining operations 
 there, although more than once they glanced 
 back wistfully at the little cluster of yellow 
 lights shining across the sands. The 
 Wounded Bad Man's shoulder was in a bad 
 way and needed medical attention. Also 
 they needed water; but they were desert- 
 bred and could last until they came to 
 Malapai Springs. 
 
 So they turned their backs on Mojave 
 Tanks and tramped onward. Now they 
 were in the ghostly moonlight of the open 
 desert, with the outlines of the mountain 
 ranges on each side looming dim and 
 shadowy fifteen or twenty miles away; now 
 they were picking their way carefully 
 
The Three Godfathers 17 
 
 through clusters of murderous catclaw, 
 through tangles of mesquit and ironwood. 
 Up dark, lonely arroyos they went; down y^ 
 long alleys between the outstretched arms 
 of the ocatillas with their pendulous, blood- 
 red blossoms, passing dried, withered 
 Joshua trees twisted into fantastic shapes as 
 if their fearful surroundings had caused 
 them to writhe in horror; through solitude 
 and desolation so vast and profound as to 
 inspire one with the thought that the 
 Creator, appalled at the magnitude of this 
 abortion of Nature, had set it apart as an 
 eternal heritage of the damned. 
 
 In the forenoon of the fifth day they 
 came to Malapai Springs. Here The 
 Three Bad Men drank deeply, bathed, 
 filled their canteens and stepped blithely 
 out for Terrapin Tanks, the next water- 
 hole — a little-known and consequently un- 
 frequented spot — where they could rest for 
 a few days before attempting the last des- 
 perate leg of their journey to the railroad. 
 
18 The Three Godfathers 
 
 "Don't stint yourself on the water, Bill," 
 The Worst Bad Man advised as they de- 
 parted from Malapai Springs. "There's 
 always water at Terrapin Tanks." 
 
 Nevertheless, with the instinct of the des- 
 ert-bred, The Worst Bad Man and The 
 Youngest Bad Man were sparing with the 
 water themselves, although careful to con- 
 ceal this fact from The Wounded Bad Man. 
 The latter's shoulder was swollen and in- 
 flamed, and it was a relief to him if the 
 bandages were kept wet. 
 
 The Worst Bad Man, who knew the 
 country better than his companions, had 
 timed their arrival at Terrapin Tanks al- 
 most to the hour. The sun was just com- 
 ing up over the low red hummocks of 
 hematite to the eastward when The Three 
 Bad Men plodded wearily up a long, dry 
 canon, turned a sharp, rocky promontory 
 into an arroyo — and paused. 
 
 Borne on the slight desert breeze a sound 
 came to them from up the arroyo. It was a 
 
The Three Godfathers 19 
 
 mournful, wailing cry and ended in a sob 
 — a sound that bespoke pain and fear and 
 misery. 
 
 The Three Bad Men looked at one an- 
 other. Each held up an index finger, en- 
 joining silence. A second, a third time the 
 sound was repeated. 
 
 "It's a human voice," announced The 
 Worst Bad Man, "an' there's death in it. 
 Wait here. I'm goin' in to see what's up." 
 
 When he had gone The Youngest Bad 
 Man, after the restless and inquisitive man- 
 ner of youth, climbed a tall rock and gazed 
 up the arroyo. 
 
 "I see the top of a covered wagon," he 
 announced. 
 
 "Then," said The Wounded Bad Man, 
 "It's a tenderfoot outfit, an' that's a woman 
 cryin'. No desert rat'd come here with a 
 wagon. Fools drive in where burros fear 
 to tread. Bob. They're tenderfeet." 
 
 "That's right," agreed The Youngest Bad 
 Man. "Some nester come in over the trail 
 
20 The Three Godfathers 
 
 from Imperial Valley and bound for New 
 Jerusalem, I'll bet a new hat." 
 
 ^'Whoever's doin' that whimperin' is sure 
 bound for New Jerusalem," The Wounded 
 Bad Man replied with a grim attempt at 
 humor. "An' if I don't let a doctor look 
 at this shoulder o' mine before long I'll 
 head that way myself." 
 
 The Worst Bad Man was gone about ten 
 minutes. Presently the others saw him re- 
 turning. On his hard, sunscorched face 
 deep concern showed plainly, and as he 
 trotted down the arroyo he scratched his 
 unkempt head as if in search of an idea 
 of sufficient magnitude to cope with a grave 
 situation. When he reached his comrades 
 he sat down on a chunk of black lava and 
 fanned himself with his hat. 
 
 "There's a fine old state of affairs at the 
 Tanks," he said huskily. 
 
 "They ain't dry, are they?" Fright 
 showed in the wide blue eyes of The Young- 
 est Bad Man. The Wounded Bad Man sat 
 
The Three Godfathers 21 
 
 down very suddenly and gulped. The 
 Worst Bad Man replied to the question. 
 
 ^Worse'n that." 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man sighed. "It 
 can't be," he said. 
 
 "There's a wagon at the Tanks," con- 
 tinued The Worst Bad Man, "but no horses. 
 It's a tenderfoot outfit — a man an' his 
 woman — an' they come in from Salton, via 
 Canon Springs and Boulder, headed for 
 New Jerusalem. Some o' their kin has 
 started a boardin' tent in the new camp an' 
 these two misfortunates were aimin' to go 
 in with the rush an' clean up a stake. They 
 make Terrapin Tanks all right, but the 
 water's a little low an' the man ain't got 
 sense enough to dig out the sand an' let the 
 water run in. He's one of these nervous 
 city fellers, I guess, and it just naturally 
 hurts him to set down an' wait till that 
 sump-hole fills up. Besides, he don't take 
 kindly to usin' a shovel, so he sticks in a 
 
22 The Three Godfathers 
 
 shot o' dynamite to clean out th' tanks an' 
 start the water runnin' " 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man sprang to his 
 feet, cursing horribly. 
 
 ^'The damned, crazy fool!" he raved. "I'll 
 kill him, I will. I'll kill him just as sure 
 as I'm thirsty." 
 
 The Worst Bad Man paid no attention 
 to the other's outburst. 
 
 "So he stuck in his stick o' dynamite an' 
 it's only a fool's luck he didn't blow him- 
 self up doin' it. I wisht he had; but he 
 didn't. He just put Terrapin Tanks out o' 
 business forever — cracked the granite floor 
 o' that sump-hole an' busted down the sides, 
 an' the water's run out into the sand an' the 
 tanks run dry. They'll stay dry. We can 
 have cloudbursts in this country from now 
 until I get religion, but them tanks'll never 
 hold another drop o' water. That fool ten- 
 derfoot's dead, I guess; but he's goin' to 
 keep right on killin' people just the same. 
 Men'll keep comin' here, bankin' on water 
 
The Three Godfathers 23 
 
 — an' in five years there'll be a dozen skel- 
 etons round that busted tank." 
 
 "But all that ain't what's bitin' me half 
 as hard as what he went an' done next. He 
 went an' let his stock nose round an' lick up 
 that alkali slop below the Tanks, an' it 
 drove 'em loco. They took off up the 
 canon, huntin' water, with Mr. Man after 
 'em. That was four days ago an' he ain't 
 come back yet; so we don't need to waste 
 no time speculatin' on his case an' feelin' 
 sorry for him. It wouldn't 'a been so bad, 
 but he went an' left his woman alone at th' 
 Tanks. She had a little water left, so she 
 wasn't so bad off until yesterday, when it 
 give out. It's been pretty hard on her all 
 alone there — an' she's a nice little woman 
 too. About twenty, I guess, an' heaps too 
 good for the cuss she married. But still that 
 ain't the worst — not by a long shot. She's 
 goin' to have a papoose." 
 
 'Whatr 
 
 "The Youngest Bad Man and The 
 
24 The Three Godfathers 
 
 Wounded Bad Man voiced the horrified 
 exclamation in unison; then The Wounded 
 Bad Man sank back against a rock. 
 
 "Yes," The Worst Bad Man affirmed 
 huskily, "there's a baby due right soon, I 
 reckon. She's in a pretty bad fix. I was 
 never married, boys, an' I don't know what 
 to do for her — an' she's cryin', an' 
 prayin', and askin' for help, an' — I — don't 
 know " 
 
 The Worst Bad Man choked and hid his 
 hard face in his hands. He shook like a 
 hooked fish. Silence, while The Worst Bad 
 Man fought for control of himself. 
 
 "I'm a tough old bird," he said presently 
 — "I'm an awful tough old bird; but I can't 
 go back there alone. You've got to come 
 with me, lads. We got to do somethin' for 
 her." 
 
 He turned hopefully to The Wounded 
 Bad Man. 
 
 "Bill," he said pleadingly, "you ought to 
 know somethin' about such cases. You do, 
 
The Three Godfathers 25 
 
 don't you Bill? Wasn't you married to a 
 half-breed girl down on the Rio Colorado 
 somewheres, an' didn't she have kids for 
 you?" 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man was on the de- 
 fensive instantly. 
 
 "Yes, that's true," he admitted with some 
 show of reluctance, "but then, Tom, you 
 know as well as me that Injuns is dififerent. 
 They ain't human, an' this here's a white 
 woman " 
 
 "That's right." The Youngest Bad Man 
 out of the wisdom of his twenty-two sum- 
 mers hastened to Bill's assistance. "An' 
 child-bearin' with a white woman means 
 doctors an' nurses an' feather beds an' what- 
 all." 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man flashed the 
 youth a grateful glance. 
 
 "You bet that's right, Bob. An' besides, 
 when that woman o' mine had them two 
 twins I was doin' a five year stretch in 
 Yuma — so you can see I don't know nothin' 
 
26 The Three Godfathers 
 
 about it. All I know is what Fve heard. 
 She didn't even call a neighbor's woman — 
 just brings them twins into the world one 
 day, an' gets out an' hustles a livin' for 'em 
 the next." 
 
 "Well," retorted the bedeviled Worst 
 Bad Man, "I wasn't tryin' to pass the buck. 
 Just a-ruminatin' around for information." 
 He rose wearily. "Come on," he growled, 
 and led the way. 
 
 The Three Bad Men walked up the draw 
 to Terrapin Tanks. In reverential awe they 
 stood beside the covered wagon, parted the 
 side curtains and looked in. 
 
 On a straw tick, covered with blankets, 
 lay a woman. She was young, with great 
 brown eyes alight with fever and with the 
 luster of approaching motherhood. A long 
 braid of brown hair lay across her white 
 breast; she moaned in her pain and terror 
 and wretchedness. 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man found a tin cup 
 and gave her generously of his all too scant 
 
The Three Godfathers 21 
 
 supply of water. The Youngest Bad Man 
 got a clean towel out of the tail-box, wet it 
 and washed her burning face and hands. 
 The Worst Bad Man, whose courage, for 
 all his deviltry, had its limitations, went and 
 sat down on the tongue of the wagon and 
 tried to think. But scourged with the hor- 
 ror of this most terrible of human travail, 
 he fled up the arroyo out of hearing. On 
 the top of one of the little black volcanic 
 hills, from which eminence he could look 
 down on the wagon, he stood, active, alert, 
 like a mountain sheep on guard, and beck- 
 oned to his friends to join him. The Young- 
 est Bad Man obeyed his frantic signals, but 
 The Wounded Bad Man stayed at the 
 wagon. 
 
 "YouVe got to be easy on me, son, at a 
 time like this," said The Worst Bad Man 
 humbly. ^'I'm an awful tough old bird, but 
 I can't stand that. It ain't no place for the 
 likes o' me. What's to be done?" 
 
 "Nothin' much, I guess." The Youngest 
 
28 The Three Godfathers 
 
 Bad Man threw out his hands in despera- 
 tion. ^'Bill says she ain't got a chance." 
 
 He took his canteen in both hands and 
 shook it gently; seeing which The Worst 
 Bad Man did the same with his. 
 
 "How much has Bill got left?" he asked 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Nary drop. He's been right feverish 
 along o' that hole in his wing, an' hittin' his 
 canteen heavy, expectin' to find water in 
 the Tanks." 
 
 "Well, we got about two gallons left," an- 
 nounced The Worst Bad Man philosophi- 
 cally, "but I see us cuttin' niggerhead cac- 
 tus before we hit another tank. Once in 
 San Berdoo I heard a sky-pilot preachin', 
 an' he 'lowed that the way o' the trans- 
 gressor's bound to be hard; but I'm dogged 
 if I looked for anythin' half as hard as this. 
 Bill's callin' you, son. Better lope back to 
 the wagon. I'll — I — guess I'll wait here." 
 
 He waited half an hour, watching with 
 anxious and paternal eyes the activities of 
 
The Three Godfathers 29 
 
 his fellows at the wagon. Once the sounds 
 of woe drifted up to him and he moved 
 farther up the canon. Here he waited, and 
 presently The Wounded Bad Man joined 
 him. 
 
 "What luck, Bill?'' he demanded. 
 
 "A boy," responded The Wounded Bad 
 Man. "Come on down an' look at him, 
 Tom. He's worth it. He's man size." 
 
 "How about that misfortunate girl?" 
 
 "She ain't a-goin' to last long, Tom. She's 
 a-goin' fast, an' she wants to see you — all 
 of us — together. She's quiet now." 
 
 Thus reassured. The Worst Bad Man 
 returned with The Wounded Bad Man to 
 the Tanks. With uncovered head he 
 approached the wagon, dreading to gaze 
 upon that tragic face, drawn with agony. 
 But lo! as he parted the curtains he gazed 
 upon the miracle of motherhood. Gone 
 were the lines of suffering; the girl's face 
 was transfigured with the light of that joy 
 and peace and pride that God gives to new- 
 
30 The Three Godfathers 
 
 made mothers, and for the first time in all 
 his hard life The Worst Bad Man was per- 
 mitted to glimpse something of the glory 
 of his Creator. 
 
 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; and with the thought he 
 reached for the mother's left hand and car- 
 ried it to his cracked and blistered lips. He 
 spoke no word, but as he bowed his reck- 
 less head reverently over that fevered hand 
 he seemed to cry aloud : 
 
 "Here is my wasted and worthless life. 
 I offer it in exchange for yours." 
 
 The girl mother's calm, benevolent eyes 
 beamed their gratitude. She understood, 
 and like a true mother she accepted his trib- 
 
The Three Godfathers 31 
 
 ute — only the sacrifice could not be for her. 
 
 "What is your name?" she asked wearily. 
 
 "Tom Gibbons." 
 
 "And yours?" turning to The Wounded 
 Bad Man. 
 
 "Bill Kearny." 
 
 She glanced inquiringly at The Youngest 
 Bad Man. 
 
 "Bob Sangster," he replied. 
 
 "Will you save my baby?" Slowly, 
 searchingly, the wonderful eyes confronted 
 each Bad Man in turn. 
 
 "I'll save him," promised The Youngest 
 Bad Man. With all the rashness, the un- 
 thinking, unreasoning confidence and gen- 
 erosity of youth, he passed his word. He 
 recked not of the long trail ahead with 
 death for the pacemaker. He only knew 
 that this woman of sorrow had gazed long- 
 est upon him, estimating the strength in 
 his lithe, big body, searching for his man- 
 hood in the face where sin had not yet laid 
 its devastating hand. So he passed his 
 
32 The Three Godfathers 
 
 word, and passing it in all the regal sim- 
 plicity of the brave, the mother knew that 
 he would keep it. 
 
 "I'll help," croaked The Wounded Bad 
 Man humbly. He glanced at The Worst 
 Bad Man, who bowed his head once more 
 over the little hand. 
 
 "I'll help too." 
 
 "I want you — all of you — to be my baby's 
 godfathers. Poor little son! He'll be all 
 alone in this big world when his mamma 
 leaves him, and he's going to miss her so. 
 Aren't you, sweetheart? Nobody to tuck 
 you into bed at night, nobody to teach you 
 your prayers, nobody to kiss the little sore 
 spots when you fall and hurt yourself, no- 
 body to tell your little secrets to " 
 
 She closed her eyes. A tear stole through 
 between the long lashes, and The Wounded 
 Bad Man turned away. The Youngest Bad 
 Man went and sat down on the wagon 
 tongue and wept, for he was young. Only 
 The Worst Bad Man stayed, watching, 
 
The Three Godfathers 33 
 
 waiting. And presently the mother spoke 
 again. 
 
 "Are you all here? It's getting dark — 
 and we must be moving on — to the next 
 waterhole. You — Bob Sangster — take 
 baby. You said you'd save him — didn't 
 you? And Bill Kearny — and — Tom — Gib- 
 bons — will you be his godfathers — and — 
 help — Bob — Sangster — on the — trail? Will 
 you? . . . Promise — me — again — and 
 . . . his name? . . . Call him Robert 
 — William — Thomas — Sangster . . . and 
 when he's — a fine — big — brave man — like 
 his — godfathers — you'll tell — him — about 
 his little mother who — wanted to live — for 
 him so. . . . Lift him up — godfathers — 
 and let me — kiss my — baby." 
 
 The Worst Bad Man waited until the last 
 fluttering little sigh was finished before he 
 removed the infant. The Wounded Bad 
 Man closed the mother's eyes and folded 
 her hands across her pulseless breast. The 
 Youngest Bad Man stood, grasping the 
 
34 The Three Godfathers 
 
 brake-rod until his knuckles showed white 
 with the strain of the grip. Long he stood 
 there, gazing at that calm, spiritual face 
 with its halo of glistening brown hair, pon- 
 dering deeply on the mysteries of birth and 
 life and death. To him it all seemed a 
 monstrous thing; and when The Worst Bad 
 Man came to him with a shovel he wept 
 aloud. 
 
 "Death is a terrible thing, Tom," he 
 sobbed. 
 
 "Life's worse," said The Wounded Bad 
 Man gently. He was seated apart, with 
 the baby in his arms, shielding it from the 
 sun with his broad sombrero. "Death can 
 only get you once, but Life is a ghost dance. 
 I wonder what it has in store for you, kid- 
 lets. I wonder." 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man departed down 
 the arroyo with the shovel and The Worst 
 Bad Man, discovering a hammer and nails 
 in the toolbox under the seat, removed the 
 side boards and some strips from the wagon 
 
The Three Godfathers 35 
 
 bed and fell briskly to work. When The 
 Wounded Bad Man had satisfied himself 
 that The Youngest Bad Man was not within 
 hearing, he spoke : 
 
 "I say, Tom. Did you notice her when 
 she asked us to save the baby? She picked 
 on Bob. Seems as if she knew." 
 
 "I noticed. I guess she knew. They say 
 angels always does know. It's forty-five 
 miles to New Jerusalem, Bill, and you can't 
 make it, and I'm — I'm too old for a long 
 stretch without water." 
 
 "That's why I said I'd help." 
 
 "Same here." 
 
 "We've got to do the first two heats, Tom. 
 We've got to save young Bob's strength for 
 the final dash. I'll carry the baby an' you 
 carry the grub an' things tonight, an' to- 
 morrow night " 
 
 "I'll carry everything tomorrow night; 
 after that 'it'll be up to Bob. He's young 
 and hard and game. He ought to make it." 
 
36 The Three Godfathers 
 
 Late in the afternoon, with clumsy ten- 
 derness they buried the martyred mother 
 there by the Terrapin Tanks, built a cairn 
 over the grave and crowned it with a cross. 
 Then they returned to the dismantled 
 wagon to hold a consultation. 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man was the first to 
 broach the subject closest to the hearts of all 
 three. 
 
 With characteristic directness he shot his 
 query at them. All his wicked life he had 
 been facing desperate issues; long since he 
 had learned to face them unblinkingly. 
 
 "Robert William Thomas's got to have a 
 bath, ain't he?" 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man took hold of the 
 brake rod again and steadied himself. The 
 Worst Bad Man looked at the wounded 
 godfather in vague surprise. 
 
 "I never figgered on that at all," he said 
 simply. "I was thinkin' about how we're 
 to feed him. I'm for tubbin' him all right, 
 but " 
 
The Three Godfathers 37 
 
 He held up the two canteens. His pause 
 was eloquent. 
 
 ''But he's such a little feller it won't take 
 much," protested The Wounded Bad Man. 
 ''He'll fit nice in a dishpan." 
 
 "I wish he was old enough to stagger 
 along a few days without bathin'," mourned 
 The Youngest Bad Man. "Maybe he can. 
 I don't know a thing about infants ; but if he 
 must be bathed, why I guess we'd bet- 
 ter " 
 
 "I 'lowed to ask his mother a few ques- 
 tions regardin' his up-keep and what-all," 
 interrupted The Wounded Bad Man apolo- 
 getically, "but I clean forgot." 
 
 The Worst Bad Man wagged his head as 
 if to convey the impression that this was 
 a pardonable oversight indeed. He was 
 thinking. 
 
 "It stands to reason," he announced pres- 
 ently, "that this infant's mother naturally 
 made some provision for his reception into 
 camp. It's my opinion that gettin' a bath 
 
38 The Three Godfathers 
 
 is the least o' the troubles confrontin' our 
 godson. He's just naturally got to eat, an' 
 wear somethin' better'n a towel that'll 
 plum scratch the hide offn him. There 
 ought to be somethin' for Robert boy in that 
 tail-box." 
 
 So they searched the tailbox and discov- 
 ered many things— condensed milk, a car- 
 ton of soda crackers, a quart bottle of olive 
 oil, a feeding bottle, two "bluffers" with 
 real ivory rings, and an assortment of baby 
 clothes, many of them hemstitched and 
 worked through long months of loving an- 
 ticipation. The silence was pregnant of 
 tears as The Worst Bad Man held up a wee 
 woolen undershirt and two little stockings 
 that might have been cut from the index 
 fingers of a pair of woolen mittens. The 
 trio surveyed them wonderingly before re- 
 turning to the search of the tailbox. 
 
 "Ah, here we are, Tom, all fine and 
 dandy," announced The Wounded Bad 
 Man, fishing up a book from the recesses of 
 
The Three Godfathers 39 
 
 the tailbox. " 'Doctor Meecham on Carin' 
 for the Baby.' Let's see what the doc has to 
 say about it." 
 
 "Here's another," said The Worst Bad 
 Man, picking up another book and skim- 
 ming through the first few pages, ''but it 
 don't say nothin' about It's a Bible!" 
 
 He tossed it from him contemptuously, 
 and The Youngest Bad Man, still under the 
 spell of his youth and its resultant curiosity, 
 retrieved the Bible. The Worst Bad Man, 
 in the mean time, peered over the shoulder 
 of The Wounded Bad Man. 
 
 "Turn to the part on bathin' the baby. 
 Bill," he commanded. 
 
 "Hum! Ah-hem! Let me see. All right, 
 Tom." 
 
 "Bathin' the Baby — Too much care can- 
 not be exercised in performin' this most 
 important part of the baby's toilette " 
 
 "What in blazes is a toilette?" demanded 
 The Worst Bad Man. The Wounded 
 
40 The Three Godfathers 
 
 Ban Man thereupon looked into the tailbox 
 as if in search of it. 
 
 "I guess our baby ain't got no toilette in 
 his war bags," he replied sadly. "A toi- 
 lette," he continued, '4s a little green tin 
 bathtub about as long as my arm. Cost 
 about dos pesos in any hardware store." 
 
 "You — Bob. You hear that?" admon- 
 ished The Worst Bad Man. 'When you 
 get to New Jerusalem, you send out to Dan- 
 by first-off an^ round up the best toilette 
 money can buy. Remember that, Bob. 
 Crack right along, Bill. What does the 
 doc say next?" 
 
 "The First Bath— The first bath should 
 not be administered until the baby is at least 
 three days old " 
 
 "Bill," said The Worst Bad Man, look- 
 ing solemnly at his companion, "if I had a 
 sick tomcat I wouldn't send for Doc Meech- 
 am. Three days without a bath! That's 
 all right when the boy's a grown-up an' 
 ain't supposed to bathe between waterholes 
 
The Three Godfathers 41 
 
 when he's in the desert, or every Saturday 
 night when he's in town, but with new 
 babies I'll lay you my silver spurs it's dif- 
 ferent. The doc's wrong. Bill. But come 
 again." 
 
 Thus encouraged. The Wounded Bad 
 Man read: 
 
 "Immediately after birth the nurse 
 should rub the entire body with olive oil, 
 or, if that is not available, with some clean, 
 pure grease or lard." 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man closed the book, 
 but kept his finger in to mark the place. 
 
 "It don't sound regular, Tom, I'll admit; 
 but there's a bottle of olive oil in the tailbox, 
 so it looks like Robert William Thomas was 
 due for a greasin' up in accordance with the 
 doctor's orders." 
 
 The Worst Bad Man pondered. "Well, 
 I ain't convinced nohow," he said presently. 
 "This godson o' ours is startin' life slippery 
 enough with us for his godfathers." He 
 pondered a moment or two longer. "Still, 
 
42 The Three Godfathers 
 
 if we follow the book it may save Robert 
 from chafin' an' gettin' saddle galls on him. 
 Hand over the ile, Bob, an' we'll slick the 
 young feller up a mite. It's just the tender- 
 ness o' hell we don't have to use axle- 
 grease!" 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man held the naked 
 babe in his lap, across which he had spread 
 the towel, and The Worst Bad Man applied 
 the oil. 
 
 ^'Roll him over. Bill." 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man rolled him over, 
 and in a few minutes the task was com- 
 pleted.^ Dressing the infant, however, was 
 infinitely more laborious. The godfathers, 
 knowing something of the biting chill of 
 the desert nights, were grateful for the pro- 
 fusion 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 suc- 
 ceeded in dressing the infant after a non- 
 descript fashion of his own, The Worst Bad 
 
The Three Godfathers 43 
 
 Man corked the olive oil bottle, wiped his 
 hands on his trousers, and beamed with the 
 consciousness of a duty well performed. 
 
 Next, The Wounded Bad Man ran his 
 horny thumb down the index of Doctor 
 Meecham on Caring for the Baby, until 
 he came to the chapter entitled: "Feeding 
 the Baby." This chapter he real aloud. 
 
 "This is comfortin'," he remarked, turn- 
 ing down the leaf to mark the page. "Doc- 
 tor Meecham says that there's times when a 
 baby won't thrive on nothin' else but con- 
 densed milk. We got plenty o' that." 
 
 "Yes, an' we can maul up some o' them 
 sody crackers an' make some pap for him," 
 replied The Worst Bad Man; "an' in a 
 pinch we can bile him a pot o' gruel." 
 
 "We'll need water for that, Tom," The 
 Wounded Bad Man reminded him; "an' 
 we'll need water to dilute this here con- 
 densed milk an' warm it up for the feedin' 
 bottle. I 'low some of the godfathers's 
 goin' to suck niggerhead cactus enough to 
 
44 The Three Godfathers 
 
 do 'em quite a spell before they hit New 
 Jerusalem." 
 
 ^That's right," The Worst Bad Man re- 
 plied gravely; ^^Robert William Thomas's 
 got to have the water, an' Jerusalem's the 
 nearest camp, an' it's about forty-five mile 
 as the crow flies. Malapai Springs is back 
 there thirty-odd mile, though " 
 
 ^'There ain't no women at Malapai 
 Springs," retorted The Wounded Bad Man 
 pointedly, "and we can't fool no time in the 
 desert with this infant. It's up to us to hike 
 — an' hike lively — to New Jerusalem. 
 We've got six cans o' condensed milk, an' 
 we can't get morn't three shots o' milk from 
 each can. It's going to spoil quick after 
 it's opened. Besides, if we " 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man had just been the 
 recipient of a serious thought. He hastened 
 to get it off his mind. Boylike he inter- 
 rupted and rose to a question of informa- 
 tion. 
 
The Three Godfathers 45 
 
 ^What's a godfather, Bill? What job 
 does he hold down?" 
 
 ^'You're an awful ignorant young man, 
 Bob," replied The Wounded Bad Man re- 
 proachfully. "You been raised out in the 
 woods somewheres? A godfather, Bob, is 
 a sort of reserve parent. When a kid is 
 baptized there's a godfather an' a god- 
 mother present, an' for an' on behalf o' the 
 kid they promise the preacher, just the same 
 as the kid would if he could only talk, to 
 renounce the devil with all his works an' 
 pomps " 
 
 "What's his works and pumps?" demand- 
 ed The Youngest Bad Man. 
 
 "Well — robbin' banks an' shootin' up 
 deputy sheriffs, et cetry, et cetry." 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man smiled wanly. 
 "Well, Bill, all I got to say is that us 
 three're a lovely bunch o' godfathers. Best 
 thing we can do is to shunt the job to a god- 
 mother." 
 
 "But there ain't no godmother," said The 
 
46 The Three Godfathers 
 
 Worst Bad Man sadly. ^'It's up to us. She" 
 — he jerked an oily thumb toward the little 
 mound of sand and rock — ^'she said some- 
 thin' about teachin' him his prayers an' 
 bringin' him up a big, brave, strong man — 
 like — like his godfathers." 
 
 "Well, that's part of the job, too," The 
 Wounded Bad Man informed them. "I 
 went to a Sunday-school when I was a kid, 
 an' I know what I'm talkin' about. A god- 
 father's got to keep his eye peeled an' see 
 that his godchild gets a ree-ligious educa- 
 tion." 
 
 "Then," said The Youngest Bad Man, 
 "I reckon we'd better tote along this here 
 Bible. I just come across somethin' inter- 
 estin'. It's about Jesus Christ ridin' into 
 Jerusalem. Listen": 
 
 And The Youngest Bad Man proceeded 
 to read from the Gospel according to St. 
 Matthew: 
 
 "And when they drew nigh unto Jeru- 
 salem, and were come to Bethphage, unto 
 
The Three Godfathers 41 
 
 the Mount of Olives, then sent Jesus two 
 disciples, 
 
 ^^Saying unto them, Go into the village 
 over against you, and straightway ye shall 
 find an ass tied, and a colt with her: loose 
 them, and bring them unto me. 
 
 "And if any man say ought unto you, ye 
 shall say. The Lord hath need of them; and 
 straightway he will send them." 
 
 "Rot!" snapped The Worst Bad Man. "I 
 don't believe a word of it. You try swipin' 
 a man's jacks, with or without a colt, in 
 this country, an' see what happens if you 
 say the Lord hath need of them. The Lord 
 won't save you nohow. But cut out this 
 religious talk. Bob, an' rustle up some sage- 
 brush for a fire. We'll heat some of this 
 airtight milk and feed our godson before we 
 leave." 
 
 The fire was lit forthwith, and the con- 
 densed milk prepared according to the in- 
 structions laid down by Doctor Meecham. 
 The Worst Bad Man poured the water, 
 
48 The Three Godfathers 
 
 while the other two godfathers guarded 
 jealously every drop. He heated the mix- 
 ture to the proper temperature, warmed the 
 feeding bottle in it and then filled the bottle. 
 The Wounded Bad Man sat with the baby 
 in his lap and pressed the feeding bottle to 
 the little stranger's lips. 
 
 It was an anxious moment to the three 
 godfathers. Would he or would he not 
 "take hold"? He did, promptly, with a 
 gusto that brought a howl of delight from 
 The Worst Bad Man. 
 
 "I sure do admire to see the way that 
 young feller adapts himself to conditions." 
 said The Wounded Bad Man proudly. 
 
 "Hops right to it, like a drunkard to a 
 Fourth of July barbecue," said The Young- 
 est Bad Man. "He'll do." There was all 
 the pride of fatherhood in the boy's tones. 
 "Game little pup, ain't he?" 
 
 "His poor little ma was game," remarked 
 The Worst Bad Man. "He comes by it 
 natural. I wonder what kind of a coyote 
 
The Three Godfathers 49 
 
 his old man was. It'd sure be a sin if this 
 boy grew up to be as big a fool as his father. 
 I'd turn over in my grave." 
 
 "Well, that's up to the last of the god- 
 fathers," said The Wounded Bad Man. 
 "Mind you learn him hoss-sense. Bob. Don't 
 let him grow up to wear eyeglasses before 
 he's twenty-one years old, an' make him say 
 *sir' when he speaks to you. Teach him 
 hoss-sense and respect, Bob. Them's the 
 two great requirements to a man's educa- 
 tion." 
 
 "The way he's downin' his provender," 
 The Worst Bad Man remarked, "he'll be 
 full up in five minutes and want to go to 
 sleep. It's too hot to resk him out just now, 
 an' Doc Meecham says he's go to be fed 
 every four hours. We'll set up the drinks 
 to Robert agin at four o'clock, an' then we'll 
 git out o' this hole a-flyin'. Pendin' our de- 
 parture. Bob, my son, you pull off to one 
 side an' study all that Doctor Meecham has 
 to say about carin' for the baby. 
 
50 The Three Godfathers 
 
 "Knowledge ain't so awful heavy, my son, 
 when you carry it in your head, an' this Doc 
 Meecham book weighs more'n two pounds. 
 Biiril take a little sleep, an' I'll keep the 
 flies off'n him an' the infant. 
 
 • .....> 
 
 It was almost sun-down when the three 
 godfathers left Terrapin Tanks with their 
 godson and struck off through the low black 
 hills toward the northeast. A cold night 
 wind was springing up, and to the thirsty 
 godfathers, not one of whom had tasted 
 water since sun-up that morning, the cool 
 breeze was refreshing. 
 
 Up the wild, lonely draws they trudged, 
 the sleeping infant, wrapped in a double 
 blanket, reposing in the hollow of The 
 Wounded Bad Man's sound arm. The 
 man's face was drawn and very haggard, 
 and he staggered slightly from weakness 
 once or twice in spots where the trail was 
 rough. The Youngest Bad Man, follow- 
 ing at his heels, was quick to notice this. 
 
The Three Godfathers 51 
 
 "Here, I ain't carryin' an ounce o' 
 weight," he expostulated. "BilPs carryin' 
 th' water an' the airtight milk an' the f eedin' 
 bottle an' the camp kettle and our grub, an' 
 you're carryin' the baby an' a bundle of 
 extra clothes. Lemme spell you a few 
 miles. Bill. You're in bad shape with 
 that sore shoulder, an' you're goin' to wear 
 yourself out too soon." 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man shook his head. 
 "I'll carry him as far as I can while I got 
 the strength to do it. I ain't carryin' more'n 
 fifteen pounds, but it'll be enough for you 
 before you get to New Jerusalem." 
 
 "Why, ain't you comin' with us?" de- 
 manded The Youngest Bad Man. 
 
 "No," The Wounded Bad Man retorted 
 firmly, "I ain't." 
 
 The Worst Bad Man turned in the trail, 
 unscrewed the cap of the canteen and held 
 the canteen toward the Wounded Bad 
 Man. 
 
 "I think we can spare just one mouthful, 
 
52 The Three Godfathers 
 
 Bill," he said kindly. "You bein' hit 
 through the shoulder that-a-way, naturally 
 we don't hold you so rigid to the rule." 
 
 The Wounded Bad Man had been nuz- 
 zling the baby's forehead with the tip of 
 his great sunburnt nose. Now he raised 
 his head quickly and his face was terrible 
 to behold. 
 
 "I've done a heap o' ornery things in my 
 day," he growled, "but I ain't stealin' the 
 water that belongs to my godson. Don't 
 you insult me no more, Tom Gibbons." 
 
 "That reminds me," remarked The 
 Worst Bad Man affably, "you're carryin' 
 some extra weight." 
 
 He reached forward, unbuckled The 
 Wounded Bad Man's belt, with its forty 
 rounds of pistol cartridge and the heavy re- 
 volver, and tossed it into the greasewood. 
 
 "That helps some!" The Wounded Bad 
 Man growled out the words again. 
 
 They walked on in silence hour after 
 
The Three Godfathers 53 
 
 hour. Presently as they trudged along The 
 Worst Bad Man began lighting matches. 
 
 ^'Nine o'clock," he announced. "Third 
 drink-time for Robert William Thomas. 
 We'll make a dry camp an' heat some more 
 milk — listen!" 
 
 From a draw to the right there came, 
 borne on the night wind, the sound of sav- 
 age growling and yelping, as of dogs quar- 
 reling over a bone. 
 
 "Coyotes," The Youngest Bad Man eluci- 
 dated. "They got somethin'." 
 
 "Move along out o' here," cried The 
 Wounded Bad Man irritably. "I don't 
 want to listen to that. They'll get me soon 
 enough." 
 
 They moved farther up the draw and 
 camped for half an hour. Again The 
 Wounded Bad Man fed the baby, and once 
 more they swung away on their sorry road 
 to New Jerusalem. Toward morning the 
 baby awoke and whimpered, and The 
 Wounded Bad Man, who never once dur- 
 
54 The Three Godfathers 
 
 ing the long night had relinquished his 
 trust, sought to soothe it with song. 
 
 Oh, Ella Ree, so kind an' true, 
 In th' little churchyard lies. 
 
 Her grave is bright with drops o' dew. 
 But brighter were her eyes. 
 
 Then carry me back to Tennessee, 
 There let me 
 
 It was a melody of his childhood. His 
 mother had sung it to him in the old lost 
 days of his youth and innocence, and the 
 plaintive ballad came cracked and quaver- 
 ing through lips swollen with suffering. It 
 was a mournful song, but it seemed appro- 
 priate, for The Wounded Bad Man was 
 thinking of the little mother away off there 
 in the silence at Terrapin Tanks. Whether 
 from this or physical inability to proceed 
 farther, his voice broke in the second line 
 of the chorus. 
 
The Three Godfathers 55 
 
 "Dog my cats," he gasped feebly, "I 
 can't sing a lick no more!" 
 
 "I'll sing for him," volunteered The 
 Youngest Bad Man ; "I'l give him The Yel- 
 ler Rose o' Texas." 
 
 They made fifteen miles that first night, 
 and at sun-up they emerged from the black 
 volcanic hills out on to a great, white, shim- 
 mering, dry salt lake. A mile away a little 
 cabin, dazzling white in the glint of the 
 rising sun, flared against the horizon, and 
 far to the northeast the Witch of Old Wom- 
 an Mountain sat watching them. 
 * "Over there on the southeast spur of Old 
 Woman you'll find New Jerusalem, Bob," 
 The Worst Bad Man explained. "That 
 mountain with the rocky crest that 
 looks- like a witch in profile — that's Old 
 Woman Mountain. Watch the Witch, 
 Bob, airl^^ou'll get there." 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man nodded. "We 
 can't carry the baby in this heat," he re- 
 rriindcd theqi. "Hand him over, Bill, and 
 
56 The Three Godfathers 
 
 I'll just buck-jump along to that little cabin 
 an' hole up with him till you an' Tom catch 
 up." 
 
 "I'll carry him," The Wounded Bad 
 Man retorted doggedly. 
 
 "You'll not." The Youngest Bad Man 
 was aroused. "You're dyin' on your feet, 
 Bill Kearny, an' I ain't goin' to see you 
 stand by an' fall with my godson an' hurt 
 him maybe. Come across with him." 
 
 Reluctantly The Wounded Bad Man sur- 
 rendered the child to The Youngest Bad 
 Man. The latter was drawn and weary 
 himself, but he had what neither of his com- 
 rades possessed — he had glorious Youth. 
 He would still be on his feet and traveling 
 with his godson when the coyotes would 
 be quarreling over the others. He trotted 
 oflf now, in a hurry to reach the lone cabin 
 before the heat became too oppressive. 
 
 The Worst Bad Man looked after him 
 enviously. "What a man!" he muttered. 
 "Lean an' long an' tough. If we strike some 
 
The Three Godfathers 57 
 
 niggerhead cactus he'll get through. He 
 can last two days more." 
 
 ^^But I don't see no niggerhead cactus," 
 complained The Wounded Bad Man. "It's 
 ten miles across this salt lake, an' " 
 
 He swayed and fell on his hands and 
 knees. The Worst Bad Man helped him 
 up. They stood for a moment, leaning 
 against each other, resting; then plodded 
 weakly on. The Worst Bad Man was the 
 first to speak. His tongue was dry and 
 swollen but he could still speak plainly. 
 
 "D'ye remember. Bill, that yarn that Bob 
 read us outen that Bible last night — about 
 Christ ridin' into Jerusalem an' Him send- 
 in' two men over to the nearest camp for a 
 jinny with a colt? It kinder set me thinkin', 
 an' I been wonderin' all night. Bill, do you 
 believe in God?" 
 
 "I dunno," The Wounded Bad Man re- 
 plied thickly. "I usen't to, but I dunno now. 
 I seen things yesterday — in that woman's 
 eyes when she talked about the baby not 
 
58 The Three Godfathers 
 
 havin' anybody to teach him his prayers an' 
 him growin' up a fine, good man. I been 
 wonderin', too, Tom. You don't suppose, 
 Tom, that the Bible's wrong and that Christ 
 sent three disciples instead o' two?" 
 
 ^Why?" 
 
 ^'Because,"— The Wounded Bad Man 
 paused and looked at his companion very 
 impressively — ^'I kinder feel like me an' 
 you an' Bob was disciples — since I seen that 
 girl an' held that little mite of a kid in my 
 arms. I been figgerin' it out, Tom, an' I 
 allow that Bob ought to make Jerusalem 
 with Robert William Thomas some time 
 Christmas mornin'. The thought's com- 
 forted me a heap. Somehow I sorter got 
 the notion that there can't no hard luck 
 come to a Christmas baby, an' Christ just 
 naturally can't go back on us if we play the 
 game fair by that kid." 
 
 The Worst Bad Man nodded grave ap- 
 proval to these sentiments. The Wounded 
 Bad man continued; 
 
The Three Godfathers 59 
 
 "It sorter sets my mind back thirty-five 
 years. My folks used to take me to church 
 when I was a kid. I wasn't a churchgoer 
 by nature, but there was one picture on the 
 wall of that church of a naked baby lyin' in 
 his mother's lap, an' when the sun'd come 
 streamin' in through them stained-glass win- 
 dows it used to light up their faces kinder 
 beautiful. An' yesterday mornin' when the 
 sun"— here The Wounded Bad Man stum- 
 bled and fell once more. He picked him- 
 self up and continued wearily — "and when 
 the sun come streakin' over the Terrapin 
 Tanks an' shone into that wagon, I swear to 
 God, Tom, it was the same two faces !" 
 
 The Worst Bad Man made no reply. Pri- 
 vately he was of the opinion that his com- 
 panion was delirious. The latter's next 
 remark, however, precluded this idea. 
 
 "We ain't done right by young Bob Sang- 
 ster," he complained. "We're a pair o' 
 hard old skunks, Tom, an' we've kinder in- 
 fluenced that boy. He ain't bad. There 
 
60 The Three Godfathers 
 
 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'U 
 be out of kilter " 
 
 'Til talk to him too," assented The Worst 
 Bad Man eagerly. "I was thinkin' the same 
 thoughts as you. Bill. The last o' the god- 
 fathers can't be no crook. Bill. He's got to 
 do his duty by the infant." 
 
 An hour later they arrived at the white 
 cabin on the dry salt lake. It was not the 
 kind of house one sees in cities, for it was 
 built entirely of blocks of rock salt, of such 
 crystal clearness that as the two godfathers 
 approached they could discern the vague 
 outlines of Bob Sangster sitting inside with 
 the baby. The roof of the house was of 
 canvas, sun-baked, rotten and filled with 
 holes. Evidently the strange habitation 
 
The Three Godfathers 61 
 
 had been the abode of some desert visionary, 
 who planned to file on the salt lake and sell 
 his concession to the Salt Trust. 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man gave the baby 
 into the keeping of The Wounded Bad Man 
 once more, while he and The Worst Bad 
 Man busied themselves spreading the 
 double blanket over the ruined canvas roof- 
 ing to keep out the sun. Next they pre- 
 pared some condensed milk and set the feed- 
 ing bottle out in the hot salt gravel until it 
 should be heated to the right temperature. 
 And while they waited, sitting there in 
 silence, The Wounded Bad Man leaned 
 back against the salt wall and closed his 
 tired eyes. The Worst Bad Man stooped 
 and took the baby from him; yet he did not 
 seem to be aware of this action. This was 
 a bad sign. The Youngest Bad Man shook 
 his head dubiously. 
 
 Presently The Wounded Bad Man spoke. 
 His speech was very thick and labored, like 
 that of a paralyzed man. 
 
62 The Three Godfathers 
 
 "Bob," he said, "I had somethin' to say 
 to you, but I'm too weak to preach now. 
 Tom'll tell you. Got that Bible yet?" 
 
 "Yes, Bill, I got it." 
 
 "All right. Bob. rm just goin' to find 
 out if there's a God, and if there is I guess 
 He'll give me a square deal. I'm goin' to 
 give Him three chances to prove He's on 
 the job, an' I got to win two heats out o' 
 three before I'll believe. Open that Bible, 
 Bob, an' read me the very first thing you 
 
 see." 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man opened the Bible 
 and read from the Gospel according to St. 
 Matthew: 
 
 "And Jesus called a little child unto Him, 
 and set him in the midst of them, 
 
 "And said. Verily I say unto you. Except 
 ye be converted, and become as little chil- 
 dren, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of 
 heaven. 
 
 "Whosoever therefore shall humble him- 
 self as this little child, the same is greatest 
 in the kingdom of heaven. 
 
The Three Godfathers 63 
 
 "And whoso shall receive one such little 
 child in my name receiveth me." 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man closed the book. 
 
 "Open it again,'' The Wounded Bad Man 
 commanded. 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man opened it at ran- 
 dom and read from the Gospel according 
 to St. Luke: 
 
 "And one of the malefactors which were 
 hanged railed on him, saying, If thou be 
 
 Christ, save thyself and us. 
 
 "But the other answering rebuked him, 
 saying, "Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou 
 art in the same condemnation? 
 
 "And we indeed justly; for we receive the 
 due reward of our deeds: but this man hath 
 done nothing amiss. 
 
 "And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember 
 me when thou comest into thy kingdom. 
 
 "And Jesus said unto him. Verily I say 
 unto thee. To-day shalt thou be with me in 
 paradise." 
 
 "That'll do, Bob," murmured The 
 
64 The Three Godfathers 
 
 Wounded Bad Man. "I call upon you an' 
 Tom to witness that I receive that woman's 
 baby— in God's name. If I whimper for 
 water don't give it to me. There's blood 
 poison in my shoulder an' arm an' I'm goin' 
 crazy. I'm burnin' up — but it's comin' to 
 me, Lord, it's comin' to me. I don't com- 
 plain none. Lord, an' I thank Thee for 
 bringin' me this far — with the little chap — 
 for Thy sake. Lord. Our Father, who art 
 — who art — who art — who art — in Heaven, 
 blessed — I can't remember, Bob. It's a long 
 time. . . . I'll try another — " 
 
 "He's off at last," muttered The Worst 
 Bad Man. "It's the blood poison. He's 
 been dyin' since we left Malapai Springs. 
 Listen at him. Bob. What kind o' stuff is 
 he talkin'?— listen!" 
 
 They bent over The Wounded Bad Man 
 and listened intently, for it seemed to them 
 he was wandering far afield in his delir- 
 ium. He was. Bill Kearny's body was 
 
OVER THE LONG TRAIL TO THE GREAT DIVIDE 
 HE RAN WITH ARMS OUTSTRETCHED " 
 
The Three Godfathers 65 
 
 dying, but his soul was wandering adown 
 the wild and checkered path of his career 
 to its dim and distant starting point. 
 
 "Now I lay me down to sleep, 
 I pray the Lord my soul to keep. 
 If I should die before I wake, 
 I pray the Lord my soul to take." 
 
 "God bless my father and mother and my 
 little sister — and make me a good boy. 
 Amen!" 
 
 The Worst Bad Man's face twitched a 
 little. 
 
 "Good Jesus Christ!" he murmured. The 
 words were not a blasphemy. They fell 
 from his blackened lips like a benediction — 
 in his fierce eyes a soft and human light was 
 beaming. "Jesus Christ is good. He's 
 slippin' it easy to old Bill. He's made him 
 a child again." 
 
 Throughout the long, stifling day they sat 
 and watched him, and when he became de- 
 
66 The Three Godfathers 
 
 lirious The Youngest Bad Man took the 
 baby in hand, in case The Wounded Bad 
 Man should suddenly become violent. Late 
 in the afternoon when the baby had been 
 fed and wrapped again in the blanket, pre- 
 paratory to taking the trail once more, the 
 dying godfather rolled over and opened his 
 eyes. They bent to hear his last message. 
 It was almost unintelligible. 
 
 "It's a Christmas baby — it belongs — in 
 Jerus — alem. Stick it out to — finish — good 
 — boys — don't let — my — godson — die — be- 
 tween — two — thieves " 
 
 They pressed his hand. The Worst Bad 
 Man had the pack ready and slipped it over 
 his weary shoulders. He reached for the 
 baby. 
 
 "Gimme the kid," he cried thickly. "I 
 got ten miles left in me yet. I'll see you 
 across the dry lake." 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man understood now. 
 He handed over the baby, and together the 
 two godfathers passed out of the shack into 
 
The Three Godfathers 67 
 
 the great salt desert . . . And some time 
 during the night the angels came and led 
 Bill Kearny into paradise. 
 
 After leaving the cabin The Worst Bad 
 Man, realizing that the next ten miles of 
 their journey across the salt lake offered 
 free, smooth footing, resolved to make the 
 pace while the "going" was good. They 
 were no longer hampered by being forced 
 to suit their gait to that of Bill Kearny, and 
 The Worst Bad Man was resolved to see his 
 godson safe across the dry lake before 
 surrendering. 
 
 He swayed considerably as he walked, 
 but The Youngest Bad Man strode beside 
 him, with a hand on his arm, and helped to 
 hold him steady. And as they proceeded 
 The Worst Bad Man talked to Bob Sang- 
 ster. It was a short sermon, evolved, in 
 terse, eloquent sentences, from out the bit- 
 terness of The Worst Bad Man's dark past 
 and still darker future. 
 
 "Bill Kearny never went back on a pal, 
 
68 The Three Godfathers 
 
 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. That's all. I ain't goin' 
 to try to talk no more." 
 
 At midnight The Worst Bad Man was 
 very weak. He swayed and staggered and 
 stopped every few hundred yards to rest, 
 but he would not give up the baby. 
 
 "I'll last till sun-up," he told himself; "I 
 got to. I ain't the quittin' kind." 
 
 About two o'clock in the morning the 
 moon came out; from somewhere in the dis- 
 tance a coyote gave tongue, and The Worst 
 Bad Man shivered a little. At three o'clock 
 
The Three Godfathers 69 
 
 they came out of the dry salt lake into the 
 sands again, and The Youngest Bad Man 
 held out his arms for the baby. 
 
 "He needs grub mighty bad," was what 
 The Worst Bad Man tried to say, but the 
 words came only as an unintelligible mum- 
 ble. There had been no sage on the dry 
 lake and they had been unable to make a 
 fire. For two hours the baby had been 
 whimpering with hunger and cold. The 
 Worst Bad Man slipped out of his pack, 
 gathered some dry sagebrush and lit a roar- 
 ing fire, while his youthful companion min- 
 istered to the baby. And when Bob Sang- 
 ster had finished The Worst Bad Man 
 smoothed a two-foot area in the sand, and 
 by the light of the campfire he wrote with 
 his finger the words that he could not speak: 
 
 "You carry baby. I'm good two three 
 miles more with pack. I leave you twelve 
 miles from New Jerusalem. Don't lay up 
 today keep moving put baby half rations 
 savvy." 
 
10 The Three Godfathers 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man nodded. When 
 dawn began to show in the east they re- 
 sumed the journey. After the first mile, 
 The Worst Bad Man gave signs that the end 
 was coming very soon. He fell more fre- 
 quently, barking his hands and knees, filling 
 his mouth and eyes with sand, tearing his 
 flesh in the catclaws. Weary, monotonous 
 gasps came from his constricted throat, but 
 .still he staggered along, although his 
 strength had been gone for hours. He was 
 traveling on his nerve now. 
 
 Slowly the dawnlight crept over the 
 desert, softening with its magic beauty the 
 harsh empire of death. The Worst Bad 
 Man saw the rosy glow lighting up the 
 saturnine face of the witch of Old Woman 
 Mountain, and was content. He had prom- 
 ised himself to last till dawn. He had kept 
 his word. 
 
 He sank to his knees in the sand. Bob 
 Sangster stooped and lifted him to his feet. 
 He staggered along a few yards and fell 
 
The Three Godfathers 71 
 
 again, and when Bob Sangster would fain 
 have lifted him once more, The Worst Bad 
 Man motioned him back with an imperious 
 wave of his hand, for he did not want the 
 boy to waste his strength. He tried to pro- 
 test verbally, but a horrible sound was all 
 that came from his swollen mouth. 
 
 The Youngest Bad Man tarried for a 
 moment, irresolute, standing over him. The 
 Worst Bad Man deliberately removed his 
 hat and handed it to the young godfather, 
 who took it, fitted a branch of sagebrush 
 with three forks at one end into the crown 
 of the wide-brimmed hat, and thus con- 
 structed a sort of crude parasol wherewith 
 to keep the sun from the baby. The Worst 
 Bad Man nodded his approbation, and Bob 
 Sangster lowered the baby until its soft little 
 face brushed the bloody bristles on The 
 Worst Bad Man's cheek; a handclasp — and 
 the last of the godfathers turned his young 
 face toward New Jerusalem and departed 
 into the eye of the coming day. 
 
12 The Three Godfathers 
 
 The Worst Bad Man watched him until 
 he disappeared into the neutrals of the 
 desert before he turned his head to glance 
 back along the trail by which they had 
 come. Away off to the southwest, forty 
 miles away, the Cathedral Peaks lifted their 
 castellated spires, and the gaze of the strick- 
 en godfather went no farther. The Cathe- 
 dral Peaks — how like a church they seemed, 
 standing there in the solitude, sublime, inde- 
 structible, eternal, gazing down the cen- 
 turies. The Worst Bad Man was moved 
 to solemn thought — he who had so little 
 time for thought now. His mind barkened 
 back to the scene in the salt house on the 
 dry lake, to Bill Kearny's challenge to the 
 Omnipotent, to the answers that came to 
 that anguished soul crying in the wilder- 
 ness of doubt and unbelief ; and suddenly a 
 great desire came over The Worst Bad 
 Man. He, too, wanted to know. He, too, 
 would ask a sign. And if there was a 
 God 
 
The Three Godfathers 73 
 
 He stretched forth his arms toward the 
 Cathedral Peaks. ^'Lord, give me a sign," 
 he gobbled; ^4et me have The Light"; and, 
 as if in answer to his cry, the sun burst over 
 the crest of the Panimints, a long shaft of 
 light shot across the desert and painted, in 
 colors designed by the Master Artist, the 
 distant spires of the Cathedral Peaks. They 
 flamed in crimson, in gold, in flashes of sil- 
 ver light, fading away into turquoise and 
 deep maroon, and in that light The Worst 
 Bad Man read the answer to his riddle. 
 
 "Lord, I believe." The horrid gobbling 
 broke the silence once more. "Remember 
 me when thou comest into thy kingdom." 
 
 And then the desert madness smote his 
 brain, and with the sudden, terrible strength 
 of the maniac he scrambled to his feet and 
 started across the waste toward the peaks. 
 Over the long trail to the Great Divide he 
 ran, with arms outstretched; and as he ran 
 the Peaks flamed and flickered in helio- 
 graph flashes. Perhaps they carried a mes- 
 
14 The Three Godfathers 
 
 sage, a message that only The Worst Bad 
 Man could understand — the message of 
 hope eternal sounding down the ages: 
 
 "Today shalt thou be with me in para- 
 dise.'^ 
 
 Presently The Worst Bad Man fell. It 
 was the end. He had kept the faith. 
 
 • ••••••• 
 
 But Bob Sangster could not wait and 
 watch and speculate. Time pressed; at 
 Terrapin Tanks he had passed his word, 
 and he must be moving on if he would save 
 his godson. He had one can of condensed 
 milk and half a quart of water left. It be- 
 hooved him to hurry. 
 
 When the sun was an hour high and the 
 desolate landscape lay baking and shim- 
 mering round him, he crept into the meager 
 shadow of a palo-verde tree, undressed the 
 infant, rubbed him with the last of the olive 
 oil and threw the bottle away. Then with 
 new, fresh garments carried from Terrapin 
 Tanks he dressed the baby. He wet his 
 
The Three Godfathers 75 
 
 bandana handkerchief and washed the lit- 
 tle red face. He was preparing for the 
 final dash. 
 
 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 mo- 
 ment, 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." 
 
 He was about to discard his six-shooter 
 and belt, but a stealthy crackle in the sage- 
 brush caused him to reconsider. He 
 watched the spot whence the sounds came 
 and presently he made out the form of a 
 
16 The Three Godfathers 
 
 coyote. The brute was sitting on his 
 hunkers, his red tongue lolling out of the 
 corner of his mouth, his glance fixed in lazy 
 appraisal upon the last of the godfathers 
 and the bundle that he carried. 
 
 The boldness of the beast was an insult 
 in itself. It drove Bob Sangster wild with 
 anger. With marvelous brute intelligence 
 the coyote had sensed the weakness of the 
 man, and patiently he had set himself the 
 task of shadowing him to the finish. He 
 sat there now — waiting. In his contempt 
 for the hereditary enemy the gray skulker 
 did not even trouble to conceal his inten- 
 tions. 
 
 "So youVe hangin' round for the pickin's 
 already," snarled Bob Sangster, and fired. 
 The coyote turned a somersault and crawled 
 away through the sage, dragging its hind- 
 legs after it, and two more coyotes sprang 
 up at the sound of the shot and scurried out 
 of range. 
 
 "You think Til drop this boy, don't you?" 
 
The Three Godfathers 77 
 
 raved the godfather, blazing away at the 
 fleeing enemy long after it was out of range. 
 He seized Robert William Thomas and, 
 holding his hat parasol over the child, hur- 
 ried along toward the mouth of a draw. He 
 was getting in among the low, black, vol- 
 canic hills and lava beds again, and the re- 
 flected heat was terrible. Cautiously he 
 made his way along the shady side of the 
 canon, and for an hour he progressed thus 
 until the sun, having risen higher, sought 
 him out. 
 
 Horned toads and lizards scuttled out of 
 his path in fright, chuckwallas blinked their 
 eyes at him, a desert terrapin waddled lei- 
 surely by, and once, gazing back over the 
 trail, he saw that the coyotes had recovered 
 from their fright and were following him 
 again. He commenced to see mirages — 
 wonderfully beautiful little lakes, fringed 
 with palms and bright-green rushes. Dis- 
 tinctly he heard the pleasant murmur of 
 water tumbling over rocks. He was tempt- 
 
 •^ 
 
18 The Three Godfathers 
 
 ed to pause and search for this purling 
 brook, but his common-sense warned that it 
 was all a delusion of the heat and his own 
 imagination. He knew that the sun was 
 getting him fast, that he was drying up. 
 
 "Cactus," he kept repeating to himself, 
 as if in that one word he held the open 
 sesame of life; "just one niggerhead cac- 
 tus." But the niggerhead cactus, with its 
 scanty supply of vegetable juices, did not 
 grow in the country through which he was 
 traveling, and as the slow miles slipped be- 
 hind him and his eager glance revealed the 
 entire absence of the shrub that meant life 
 to him and Robert William Thomas, the 
 terrible uselessness of his struggle, the horri- 
 ble forlornness of his forlorn hope, became 
 more and more apparent. The baby was 
 whimpering continually now, and faint blue 
 rings had appeared under the little suffer- 
 er's eyes. He was sick and tired and hot 
 and itchy, and despite the fact that the god- 
 fathers had done their best. Bob Sangster 
 
The Three Godfathers 79 
 
 knew that the child could not last a day 
 longer without proper attention. It was a 
 miracle that he had survived thus far — a 
 miracle only accounted for by reason of the 
 fact that he was a healthy, hearty twelve- 
 pounder at birth. The last of the god- 
 fathers tried vainly to soothe him with the 
 oft-successful Yeller Rose o' Texas, but he 
 was beyond singing now, and in the knowl- 
 edge that both were going swiftly he min- 
 gled his tears with those of his godson. Yet 
 they were manly tears, and no taint of self- 
 pity brought them forth. Only it broke 
 Bob Sangster's heart to think of his helpless 
 godson and of the gray scavengers skulking 
 behind. 
 
 Suddenly the godfather thrilled with a 
 great feeling of relief and joy. He had 
 come to an Indian water sign; he read it 
 at a glance. 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 
 
80 The Three Godfathers 
 
 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. It was quite dry. 
 
 It was a long time before he could gather 
 his courage together and depart down the 
 canon again. He had traveled two miles 
 for nothing! He wept anew at the thought, 
 marveling the while that there should be so 
 much moisture still in his wretched body. 
 
 At the mouth of the canon he halted and 
 prepared the last of his condensed milk and 
 water for the baby. When he proffered it, 
 however, the child screamed and refused 
 the horrid draught, and as he lay on the 
 man's knees with his little mouth open Bob 
 
YOU NEED "WATER, TOO," HE MUMBLED 
 THIS SWEET DOPE IS KILLIN' YOU" 
 
The Three Godfathers 81 
 
 Sangster dropped in the last dregs of his 
 canteen. 
 
 "You need water, too, son," he mumbled 
 sadly. "This sweet dope is killin' you." 
 
 He replaced the feeding bottle in his 
 pocket, paused long enough to kill another 
 coyote that had ventured too close, and re- 
 sumed his journey toward New Jerusalem. 
 He had left the dry tank at noon. At one 
 o'clock he was two miles nearer New Jeru- 
 salem; at three o'clock he was within five 
 miles of the camp and had fallen for the 
 first time. But even as he fell he had thrust 
 out his left hand, thus fending his weight 
 from the baby, and the child had not been 
 injured. So the godfather merely covered 
 the child's tender head with Tom Gibbons' 
 old hat, and together they lay for a while 
 prone in the sand. The man was not yet 
 done, but he was exhausted and half blind 
 and very weak. He was striving to get his 
 courage in hand once more, and he needed 
 a rest so badly. So he lay there, trying to 
 
82 The Three Godfathers 
 
 think, until presently the whimpering of the 
 infant aroused him, and he sat up suddenly. 
 Seated in a circle, of which Bob Sangster 
 and the baby formed the axis, were half a 
 dozen coyotes. They were closer now — too 
 close for comfort and, cowardly as he knew 
 them to be, there were enough of them 
 present to fan their courage to the point 
 where a single rush would end it. He fired 
 at them and they scampered away un- 
 harmed. 
 
 "I can't shoot any more," the man wailed. 
 "Fm goin' blind. Come, son, we must move 
 on or they'll get us to-night." 
 
 He picked the child up and plodded on, 
 and once more the coyotes fell into line 
 behind him. The godfather began to feel 
 afraid of them. He was obsessed with a 
 horrible fear that they might sneak up and 
 snap at him from behind, or rush him en 
 masse and tear the baby out of his arms. 
 He kept glancing back and firing at them. 
 But all of his shots went wild and gradually 
 
The Three Godfathers 83 
 
 the trailing brutes grew bolder. Whenever 
 he sat down for a few minutes to rest they 
 surrounded him, and it seemed to the god- 
 father that each time they edged in closer. 
 He decided to save his cartridges until the 
 final rush. 
 
 He tottered along until four o'clock 
 before he fell again. This time he twisted 
 in time to land on his back, with the baby 
 uppermost, and as he lay there, stunned 
 and shaken, the godfather was almost proud 
 of himself for his forethought. He closed 
 his eyes to rid his vision of the myriads of 
 red, yellow and blue spots that came danc- 
 ing out of the sand and shooting into the 
 air like skyrockets. The spots still persist- 
 ed, however — for the skyrockets were in 
 his brain, and as he lay there it came to 
 him that this was to be the end after all. 
 He was too weak to carry the baby further. 
 Sooner or later he would fall upon it and 
 kill it, so why struggle further 
 
 The baby was leaving him! He could 
 
84 The Three Godfathers 
 
 feel it being slowly dragged from his pro- 
 tecting arm, and with a moan that was in- 
 tended for a shriek he sat up and reached 
 for his gun. So close to him was the coyote, 
 dragging gingerly at the infant's clothing, 
 that the godfather dared not fire. He 
 merely threw up his arms to frighten the 
 beast away, and reluctantly it trotted back 
 and rejoined its companions of the slaver- 
 ing, red-tongued circle. 
 
 The godfather knelt in the sands beside 
 the baby and searched for the marks of 
 teeth, but found none. The horror of their 
 situation was brought forcefully home to 
 him now. He had hoped before, but hope 
 was vanished. New Jerusalem could not 
 be more than three miles away, but it might 
 as well be three hundred, for Bob Sangster 
 could never make it with the baby. He 
 thought no longer of life. He wanted to 
 cheat the coyotes, and in his agony he for- 
 got that he was a Bad Man and cried aloud 
 
The Three Godfathers 85 
 
 to a Supreme Being of whom he knew 
 nothing. 
 
 *^0 God, save me, save me! Not for my- 
 self, but for this poor little baby. I'm old 
 and tough. Lord, but save the baby. You 
 were a baby yourself once, Lord, if the 
 Bible don't lie. Now save my baby. Don't 
 go back on me. Lord. Help me, help me 
 to keep my word to raise him right " 
 
 He clasped the child in his arms and 
 kissed it passionately for the first time since 
 his assumption of the duties of a godfather. 
 And then, because he was a fighter and 
 could not quit while there was life within 
 him, he reeled onward with dogged per- 
 sistence. He fixed his fading glance on some 
 unimportant landmark and nerved himself 
 to last until he should reach it. Queer 
 thoughts kept obtruding themselves upon 
 him. Once he thought a chuckwalla ad- 
 dressed him, saying: "Hello, Bob Sang- 
 ster, what are you runnin' away from? You 
 can't dodge them coyotes. They're goin' to 
 get that infant, sure. Better chuck 'em the 
 
86 The Three Godfathers 
 
 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. ''Of course it's none o' 
 my business," remarked the horned toad, 
 ''but if the baby won't drink it, you should. 
 It's foolish to let it go to waste. It's only a 
 couple of mouthfuls, but it'll give you 
 strength to make that black lava point a 
 mile ahead." 
 
 "Horned Toad," replied the godfather, 
 "you're a sensible little critter an' I'll take 
 your advice. It ain't manly to do it, but 
 nothin' matters any more." 
 
 He drank the milk that the baby had re- 
 
The Three Godfathers 87 
 
 fused, tossed the bottle aside and nerved 
 himself to last until he should reach the 
 black lava point. That was to be the last 
 goal. If he fell before he reached it he 
 resolved to climb into a palo-verde tree, 
 wedge himself and the baby in between the 
 limbs, kill the baby and himself, and thus 
 dying have the laugh on the coyotes. 
 
 He fell. For the third time the child 
 escaped being crushed. The palo-verde 
 tree was only fifty yards away, the black 
 lava point seventy-five yards, but when the 
 godfather could scramble to his feet again 
 he made for the palo-verde tree. Here, to 
 his disgust, he found himself too weak to 
 climb the tree. So he leaned against it and 
 wept, dry-eyed, with rage and horror and 
 disappointment. The horned toad had fol- 
 lowed and now offered more advice. 
 
 "Sangster, you're a chump. Why climb 
 the tree? The buzzards will get you, so 
 what's the difference?" 
 
 "Fll make the lava point," replied the 
 
88 The Three Godfathers 
 
 godfather. "They can't come at me in 
 back there, an' I can keep 'em away for a 
 while anyhow." 
 
 He lurched away. Foot by foot he 
 approached the black lava point. He re- 
 solved to round it; there was shade on the 
 other side. Staggering, reeling, muttering 
 incoherently, he rounded the lava rock and 
 collided with something soft and hairy. He 
 leaned against it for a moment, resting, 
 while something soft and warm and animal- 
 like nuzzled him and nickered softly in the 
 joy of the meeting. When Bob Sangster 
 opened his eyes he found himself leaning 
 against a trembling old white burro with a 
 pack on his back. 
 
 "Water," thought the godfather, "water. 
 There ought to be a canvas waterbag," and 
 he went clawing along the burro's side, feel- 
 ing for the waterbag but unable to find it. 
 The little animal was standing patiently in 
 the shadow of the rock, and Bob Sangster 
 stood off and looked at him. The burro's 
 
The Three Godfathers 89 
 
 eyes were red and dust-rimmed; evidently 
 he had traveled far. His legs trembled, his 
 tongue, dry and black, protruded from his 
 mouth. The burro, too, was dying of thirst. 
 
 "You poor devil," mused Bob Sangster. 
 He gazed at the pitiable little animal, the 
 while his memory strove to recall some 
 other incident in which a burro had figured. 
 There had been some talk of burros recently 
 with Bill Kearny and Tom Gibbons. What 
 was it? Well, never mind. It didn't make 
 any difference. This burro was dying and 
 useless ; there was no water bag 
 
 And when they drew nigh unto Jeru- 
 salem . . . then sent Jesus two disciples, 
 saying unto them, Go into the village over 
 against you, and straightway ye shall find 
 an ass tied 
 
 The words of the Gospel according to 
 St. Matthew flamed in letters of fire across 
 the failing vision of the last godfather. He 
 remembered now. He had read a chapter 
 from the Bible to Bill Kearny and Tom 
 
90 The Three Godfathers 
 
 Gibbons back there at Terrapin Tanks — 
 and it was all about Christ riding into Jeru- 
 salem on an ass. Here, in the shadow of 
 this black lava, he had found a burro wait- 
 ing! Bill Kearny had asked for a sign • 
 
 The last of the godfathers thought of his 
 frenzied prayer of an hour before. He had 
 asked for help. Could it be possible that 
 here stood the answer? 
 
 "There's a chance," he mumbled. "This 
 critter has stampeded from some prospec- 
 tor's pack outfit. He's been lookin' for 
 water, and the Lord sent him our way, 
 sonny. He's sure sent him." 
 
 With his free hand the godfather clawed 
 desperately at the diamond hitch, swept the 
 load from the packsaddle, ripped it apart 
 and found — a can of tomatoes. He slashed 
 the can open, drank some himself and gave 
 the balance to the burro. Then, lifting his 
 godson into the packsaddle, he lashed him 
 in securely; after which he took his open 
 pocket knife in hand and prodded the jaded 
 
The Three Godfathers 91 
 
 burro until it consented to move away across 
 the desert at a crawling, shuffling gait. Bob 
 Sangster walked beside the burro, one hand 
 busy with the point of the knife, the other 
 clinging desperately to the rear cross of the 
 packsaddle. His strength had, in a meas- 
 ure, returned after drinking the canned 
 tomatoes, and he fancied that the burro too 
 seemed rejuvenated. Bob Sangster wished 
 he had another can of tomatoes to offer the 
 little beast, for the lives of himself and his 
 godson depended on the burro. He leaned 
 heavily against the animal, which half led, 
 half dragged him along. Thus an hour 
 passed. 
 
 They were ascending the upraise that led 
 to the crest of the southeast spur of Old 
 Woman Mountain now, and through the 
 sunset haze the witch's demoniac face leered 
 down at them from the heights above. 
 Slowly, haltingly, they progressed up the 
 slope. The burro was almost spent, and 
 time and again he balked and groaned a 
 
92 The Three Godfathers 
 
 feeble protest. He welcomed the occasions 
 when the godfather's weak clasp of the 
 packsaddle was broken and he fell head- 
 long to earth. But if he fell, the godfather 
 rose again, moaning, praying, raving, and 
 still the awful cavalcade pressed on. 
 
 The shadows grew long. The sun dis- 
 appeared and evening settled over the des- 
 ert, 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. 
 
 "YouVe 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. Til 
 get there. But " 
 
 He pressed the muzzle of his gun into the 
 
The Three Godfathers 93 
 
 suffering animal's ear and pulled. "I owed 
 you that kindness," he mumbled, and passed 
 on to the crest of the slope. 
 
 At the summit he paused, swaying gently 
 with his precious burden, and gazed down 
 the other side of the spur. In a hollow a 
 few hundred yards below him, the lights of 
 New Jerusalem gleamed brightly through 
 the gathering gloom of that lonely Christ- 
 mas Eve, and the godfather recalled the 
 words of Bill Kearny. 
 
 "It's a Christmas baby. God won't go 
 back on it." 
 
 Bob Sangster's tongue hung from his 
 mouth, long and black and withered, like 
 the tongue of a dead beef, as he stood there 
 on the outskirts of New Jerusalem and 
 thought of many things. Bill Kearny had 
 been right. It was a Christmas baby. It 
 would pull through all right. He drew the 
 baby to him until their faces were very 
 close, so close that a little hand crept up and 
 closed tightly over the godfather's nose. 
 
94 The Three Godfathers 
 
 This was to be their last supreme mo- 
 ment together, for after tonight some 
 woman must enter into Robert William 
 Thomas' life and Bob Sangster could only 
 be a partner in his godson's love. He re- 
 called that the baby's mother had told The 
 Worst Bad Man they had "kin" in New 
 Jerusalem, and Bob Sangster wondered if 
 she had intended that he should turn the 
 baby over to them. The thought appalled 
 him, and his hot tears fell fast on the little 
 white face as he staggered down the grade 
 into New Jerusalem. 
 
 "I won't give you up," he gibbered, "I 
 won't. You're mine. Your mother give 
 you to me to raise like a man, an' I'm 
 a-goin' to do it. You're my kid an' you're 
 named after us three. No, no, I won't. I've 
 died ten thousand deaths for you — I'll work 
 an' I'll hire a woman " 
 
 Fifteen minutes later a battered, bleeding, 
 raving wreck of a man, who hugged a bun- 
 dle to his great breast, reeled into New 
 
The Three Godfathers 95 
 
 Jerusalem and paused in front of a hurdy- 
 gurdy. From within came the plaintive 
 notes of a melodeon, and a woman — a Mary 
 Magdalen — ^was singing: 
 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, lift up your gates and 
 
 sing, 
 Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna to your King! 
 
 Bob Sangster made his uncertain way to 
 the woman at the melodeon and held a bun- 
 dle toward her. 
 
 "What's this?" she demanded. The last 
 of the godfathers gobbled and mumbled, 
 but the words refused to come. How could 
 the woman know what he was trying to say? 
 
 She unwrapped the bundle and gazed 
 down at Robert William Thomas Sangster. 
 
 Who knows? Perhaps in that moment 
 the woman, too, like The Three Bad Men, 
 beheld The King! 
 
 • « 
 
 
m". 
 
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 WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN 
 THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY 
 WILL INCREASE TO 50 CENTS ON THE FOURTH 
 DAY AND TO $1.00 ON THE SEVENTH DAY 
 OVERDUE. 
 
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 DEC 7 1944 
 
 )CT 2 7 2004 
 
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