SHORT STORY.

Otago Witness, Issue 2896, 15 September 1909, Page 90

SHORT STORY.

AN ADOPTED NIECE. By Philip Verrill Michels. They sat in tbe warm June sunlight on th« doorstep of tihe small wooden shanty, big Dan White, miner, and Tom Devoe, foster-parent, and for fully two minutes ■.neither spoke. Big Dan had taken off his ihat, which he turned and ttumed in his hands. At length fee dropped it and summed up the whole situation. "As I understand it, Tom," said he, "yon and Nancy kind of halfway reckon ■you want to buy that restaurant over to Riley's, and go into the grubddsbirb' business, and your idea is to leave little Miss Devoe here with me foT two or three days while you both traipse over there and cmjumnavigate tne proposition." Devoe said, "Yep, that's the notion." From his pocket be drew a soiled and folded sheet of paper, which he straigMemad out deliberately. "This here," he added, '"is the restaurant's regular waybill." "It sounds like good kitchen sense," said -Dan, "but this here soup — this con-sum-me. What in blazes, is consum-me soup?" "Consum-me soup," said Devoe gravely, "is ghost feed. It's just yeller w«ter a little bit' diluted." Dan returned the folded menu to its owner. "I didn't think you knowed how to run a restaurant^ Tom," said he, "but I guess there ain't no doubt about it. Suppose you make up your mind to buy it amd go it a mess, then what about iittle Mass Devoe?" "I'll come back here and git her, of course," Tom assured him with alacrity. "Me and Nancy don't hanker to run nuthin' without, her tbe rest of our live?." liig Dan glanced about his shanty somewhat deliberately. "It don't look as if there's much she could bust wthile you're gone," he observed reflectively, "and I ain't hesitatin' none on that point, Tom, ior I'm awful iond of the little gai, as you know, but I was thinkin' more <about — —" He checked himself at the verge of certain sentimental confessions, and added presently,, "When was you figurin' to start fer Kiley's, anyhow?" ' "Wai — w« did want to git away today," Tom admitted. "If you am t williUj Dan, why " "To-day ?'' interrupted the miner. "Today: — and me ali ready to go up to Tnree-miie Station, ana Betsey expectin' ' His sentence was never concluded, for a light, quick footstep, almost at his elbow, startled a»-d interrupted Jiim suddenly. He turned as a pretty vision made its appearan :e from around the sunny corner of his cabin. It was Nance, Tom's wife — rosy-cheeked, bright-ej-ed Nancy Devoe, \»itn a bag in one hand, while on her strong young arm sat little Mies Prairie Devoe nerself, roguish, winning, dimpling wil>h &nviles ami, instantly wjuirmiiiig to be placed on the ground, and extending both hoi- baby hands to -big Dan, t-eated on the step. His hesitation vamsbad immediately. "Well, well, well !" he exclaimed as he rose and took the youngster in His arms. "(jJocd morning, Miss Devot. Did you coiie to visit Lncle "Dan?" ••Jja'uy — camxi — to — youve — Uncle Dan," 6aid the tiny coquette, and «he threw bot/h her plump iittle arms about his neck and gave ham a wonderful hug. N-aiicy winked at her husband surreptitiously. "I just said tliat Uncle Dan would only be too glad to take care of her while we was gone," she -aid. "I told Tom there wasn't another mam Co Po;o del Oro camp which I'd leave little Prairie with but you, Uncle Dan — not even Uncle Billy Partridge, and the Lord' knows he's as fond of Prairie as he can be — and I'm awful glad you wan* her — and we're sure to be back in a week — .And, Tom, the stage is 'most ready, so we'll have to hurry. They've got the trunk, and I fetched tfhis bag with Prairie's things — some stockings and dresses^ — she gits 'em dirty sc fast and wears 'em out — bof Uncle Dan can mend' them if they git too holey — so we'll just kiss her good-bye and git started." She descended on the speechless Dan, who was once more seated on the step, with little Prairie on his knee, and giving the tot a warm embrace, she kissed her seventeen timee in one second, tossed the bag of things inside the house, straightened out hei bat upon, her head, and was oready to depart. "You don't mear you're goin' right bow — on this morning's stage?" said Dan at last, "and maybe gom' to stay away a week?" "Why, hasn't Tom been tellin' you them »vas our programme V answered Nancy in surprise "Then what in the •world have you been doing all this morning? Of course that's what we're goin' to do, Uncle Dan, so good-bye — we've got to hurry. Tom, come on." "All right," said Tom. "You go ahead. I want to speak to Dan foe half a minute." Dan said : "I guess I'm elected." Tom felt not a little abashed at the manner in which the charge bad been thrust upon his friend. "I only stayed behind, Dan," he said, "to suggest that if Beteey's on your mmd — Betsey Dodd, op to the Thi«e-mile Station — why maybe you could tote Prairie up there to help (you do your courtin' You know what the little gal done for me." Dan shook his head dubiously. "I'll fix it up come way, Tom You git agoin', •nd good luck with the consum-me." "Guet« I'd better," said Tom. "I know ■you U take good caie of little Prairie and enjoy her vLsit. >So loii/j. '' ; "So long," said Dan. "If >ou see Billy Partridge, send him up here."-

! "Well, Miss Devoe," said Dan to the enterprising little iot, left thus abruptly; to bis guardianship, "you're doin' pretty fancy so far with my goodk and chattels." The youngster had diso#fered nothing novel in his pockets, all of which she had rifled many times before. She therefore stood up on his knee and patted his face with extravagant affection. ■'What's this?" inquired Dan. "Payin' the damage done in advance ior something you want to git at?" "Baby — do — yove — Uncle Dan," was all the youngster answered, and scrambling out of has arms ©he started inside the cabin without delay. Dan hastened to •follow her with commendable alacrity, and 1 snatching various household utensils, right and left, began to hang them, and stow them away in lofty positions, with a zeal trnat was almost frantic. The baby was undismayed. She_ tried to help. She went across the room to the bunk, and laying hold of a bootjack, that certainly resembled an ordinary piece of kitchen fuel, she promptly conveyed it to the fireplace and dropped it in upon the lazily blazing logs. i>an was storing a toaaed revolver on the topmost beam ot tne dwelling. Descending, he oaugnt up his extra boots, a foryingpan, a coffee pot, and his pipe, all oi wiitcin he wisely Destowed in places too Jugh for little Prairie's reaon. line energetic youngster, entering fully .into the spirit of shifting things about, trotted quickly to an inviting iittle cupboard and, laying hold of an open can of condensed milk, rolled two precious eggs riy.nt out, wnere ti«ey fell upon tne floor, alter whidh she inverted the milk can witih equal adroitness and completed a rich, raw cu^ta-rd at her feet in the briefest time imaginable. Big Dan looked down, irom lad nigh position on a ©tool. "Cm, pisna-w : saad he. Mies l)evoe, with the dripping can still clasp-ad by the lid in one oi nea- tenacious Jitti« hands, piompily inside tihe amend;© feminine. She hastened to the stool wheireon the man was standing a-nd threw her arms, can and all, about ids legs. ■j£a.by — do — joye — unae van." tne assured him fondly. "Yes — well, i reckon a, little lovin' is a dangerous thing," said Dan. He descended to the floor, took the cam from, his tiny guest, threw it into the are, and for the first time observed the cheerluil blazing of his bootjack. With one Wild dive he snatched it forth, then energetically kicked it, still biaoaing, across ws room,' anU flipping it bodily into a basin of water succeeded in preoe-iving its charred remains. In the meantime little Prairie, eager to imitate his example and to be of assistance, was doing her utmost to kick' the broken eggs and tine vtscMi milk toward the same supply of water, but with only a. partial success. Unfortunately the egg etulf was slippery. jjan turned about in time to see' two ti^y feet fling treacherously out and upward, and the baby sat down upon the custard with emphatic directnes. He stood perfectly still and gazed at her helplessly He eadd nothing, since nothing adequate arose in his mind. Little Prairie remained but a moment in the cream and go!d«Ji setting, then laboriously extricated her gairments and her plump little person irom the mess, wndcn she tu<mcd about to view. "Baby — made — floor — albiife — and clean,"' she imparted cheerfully Then coming forward, both sticky hands held b&foro her, with fingers extended till they resembled two small star fishes ir> distress, she added: "Uncle Dan — tate — it — off." "-Wait!" said the miner. "Wait till I kin wet a good big rag!' He wet three empty flour sacks, enticed the baby to the steps outride the door, leaned out 1.113 bag containing hei extra ifcthing, locked his cabin for better security again»t her further adventures, and laboured earnestly for one long hour before he could make the child even partially presentable. He was rolling up the discarded dress in a tight hard wad, and Prairie was making futile art&mpts to escape his vigilance and explore the world outside his cabin, when Billy Partridge came toiling up the trail, a* half-opened newspaper clutched in his fist. Big Da,n had never been more honestly giad to behold a friend in all his life. Little Prairie was equally enthusiastic. Partridge was her Adopted Uncle Billy. He promptly took her on his knee and she as promptly announced that she loved him, and proceeded to empty his pockets. Dan concealed the wad of little clothing, and in glowing optimism related the facts concerning little Prairie's temporary sojourn in his cabin. "I'll have her all to myself — exceptin' for you, Billy," he eaid ecstatically. "I'm goin' to let \ou stay with me and share .ML?s Devoe regular. Fact i*. Hilly, I've got to go to s-ee a friend f<,r half an hour, right away. I gue=s I'll leave you and Mi=6 Devoe here together while I'm gone." "But I want to read this here paper." objected Billy. "I only just got it in the mail. Haven't had one for a month." "That's all right. Just bit here and read it, you and Mi^s Devoe," said Dan. I whose anxiety to hasten off to his belated ' appointment, with Mi.-s Betsey Dodd at Three-mile Station had increased upon him tremendously. "Miss Devoe loves you, Billy, and she won't mind you readin' the news. She'l amiuc herself a few, just playin' round. So long. I'll bo back before you're through." He did not wait to argue the matter, but went at once, leaving Billy feebly pro.t*&ting, while little Miss Devoe already had one small foot through the paper. There was no escape. He therefore placed her gently on the proand. and. picking up a tiny sliver of wood, held it in his hand for the child to see. " 'Tick.' he said instructively. ''Baby po find 'tick and brin? it to Unde Billy. Uncle Billy likee lots" of 'ticks.'*

' little Prairie was a willing child. She started at once on her mission, searching about in the sand near the cabin, and BiSy settled down to his reading. Presently his small companion returned, holding some tiny black object between her baby thumb and finger. " 'Tick— Uncle Billy, ' she said. " 'Tick." I "All right, ' he answ^fcd, without looking ; "put it in Uncle Billy's pocket and get him, some more." Miss Devoe was deligihted. . She placed her " 'tick" in a handy pocket of his coat and trudged off at once for another, with which she returned very promptly. " 'Tick," sbe informed him as before, "Uncle Billy— 'tick!" i He indicated the pocket again, and kept on reading. Back and foTth and forth and back the , youngster trotted, bringing '"ticks" by the scores and dozens, all for the pocket of her friend. Uncle Billy had apparently solved the problem of supplying a child with innocent engaging entertainment. In the meantime Big Dan had come to the much-belated tryst at Three-mile Stationd, and Mistress Betsey Dodd was exceedingly displeased at his delay. She was a good-sized, brown-eyed, tempery young person, on whom Dan's explanation acted peouliariy. "Do you mean to teli me, Dan White," she said, "that you're goir*' to be an orphant asylum for that kid for maybe a week? What about you takin' me drivin' to Crystal Springs on Sunday, which is day after to-morrow?" "Well, I was goring to ask if maybe the weather wouldn't be pleasanter a week from Sunday, ' said the miner. "That's what I come up here to ask." "Oh! you did, did you? That's all you come up for, was it, and me wadtin' two solid hours fer nuthin?" demanded Miss Dodd, with ready warmth. "Well, I can just break the news to you right now that I ain't the kind you can git to play no second fiddle — do jot understand my conversation ? — and you can't have me and Miss Devoe at the same time, savvy? Now, which do you decide to give vp — once and fer all?" 1 "Give up?" echoed Dan, deepTy perturbed. "Why, Betsey, I shouldn't think, with little Prairie just a baby, and you the only gal I ever " "That's enough. Don't go on further," interrupted Miss Dodd, imperiously. "Baby or not, it ain't my way of doin'. If you don't propose to give 11 her up, right off prompt, why that settles it all between you and I. Now, which of us two 16 it goin' to be." "But I couldn't many Miss Devoe," protested Dan. ' "You savvy that!" "Marry?" said Betsey, crimsoning to her shoes. "You never said marry to me before — though I supposed you might gi.t off somethin' of the sort iii time, you bein' a man and me a girl — but I don't expect to git flattered to death by that — and if you want to marry me,' why, prove it by lettin' your little Prairie go and takin' me drivin' next Sunday." "Do you mean I've got to send her away or you'll never be my wife?" said Dan, very white about the lips. "Is that what- you mean?" "If she stays in your house over Sunday, you bet ymi and me won't git married !" Mii*s Dodd replied with emphasis. '"And that' 6 all for this mornin'. Goodbye." Dan fctood looking at her oddly for a moment, entreaty in his honest eyes, then the lig-lit of cold determination. "I can't throw her out like that," he said. "I guess I'll say good-bye." He turned and walked away, Miss Bets2y watching, at first indignantly, then more forgivingly, and at last, when he failed to turn and look back, with belated regret in hei two big brown eyes. "Dan," she cried. "Dan ! Dan ! Come back !" But the wind was against her. He did not hear, and, topping the ridge, was silhouetted sharply against the sky for a moment, then abruptly disappeared from her view. Worried and somewhat sore at heart, he made his way across the hills and came at length to his cabin, the end of which he rounded silently. There sat Billy still engrossed in his paper, and there was the earnest little Prairie still trudging to and from the brush and diligently loading Bill's pocket. '• 'Tick— Uncle Billy," "Dan heard her say. " 'Nother — 'tick." White was tremendously interested to behold this harmless subterfuge for keeping the baby out of mi»cbief. He came forward quietly, while little Miss Devoe was toddiling on her mission, Billy glanced up for a second. "Hellc — back, hey?' he said mechanically, and his mind returned to the reading. Dan was studying Parti idge's clothing curiously. •'Billy," he said in a moment, "you must be settin' on some trouble. Your eeat's alive with ants.' 1 "Wihafs that?'' queried Billy, who had only half hoaid. his friend's remark. "Aunt who?" Then the baby came faithfully to the fctep as before. "Tick, Uncle Dan!"' .«ho by way of variation; '''tick.'' and >-he held up he.;- find. Dan saw a tiny black ,-uit vainly stru^glinj for it.s ir<_er'om between her thumb and finger. She had found a practically inexhaustible hill of the little black creatures, and for nearly two hours had been fetching them, one" by one. to Uncle Billy. '"Man — there's a thousand ants a-craw-lin' on your person !" exclaimed big Dan excitedly. "Billy, git up and ."-hake them off before they begin to eat your carcass ! ' ' "Ants!' 1 ciied Paitridge. suddenly startled to life "Ants ! — yieat jumpin' Jehosaphat !'' He bv>«pt half a dozen of the frantically running little in.-ect.s fiom hi> hai d at a stroke, and, leaping to his feet,

' threw down his paper, tore off his coat, amd shook and beat it on the steps like a lunatic. j "Goad gosh ! there's one inside my j shirj;!" he said, dropping the coat and • wildly hauling at the neck of his garj ments. There's another further down inside ! There's three on my back ! They're on my legs ! They're inside of me every"ft*here ! I must have been sit tin' " j The baby interrupted). She had made another successful pilgrimage to her base of supplies, and now sEood before Billy, faithful to her task. "Tick— Uncle Billy," she said as before, proffering one more "helpless ant to the man who had kept her entertained. " 'Not her— 'tick." "Smotberin' ang^els!" said Billy, .aghast at this belated discovery, "the little terror of a kid has put at least a million in my pocket! Burn the coat! -Burn it quick ! I've got to git for home like , blazes and strip off my duds a month ' ahead of time!" j He deserted his coat, his hat, and his precious paper instantly, amd racing down ■ the mountain trail left the helpless Dam absolutely alone and unprotected with the tireless little girl. Having undertaken to transfer the entire population of the ant bill to a field of greater usefulmess, Prairie had lost no time during Billy's excitement. While' Dan was engaged in beating Billy's coat j she came to the steps again with a captive insect in her grasp. I " 'Tick," she said, as in expectation of ; a great reward, "'tick — for — Uncle Dan." j "Nasty 'tick ! Throw him away !" said , the foster uncle emphatically. ' "Baby, throw him away !" I "Nasty 'tick :" repeated the youngster, hurling the ant to the earth as directed, and then, Ua-cle Dano continuing to be , occupied with the infested coat, she , trotted off, fetched her ant as before, and ejaculating "Nasty 'tick !" threw it down on. the boot of the miner and) trudged patiently off for another. The following day appeared to justify many of his apprehensions. Little Prairie veTy early succeeded in filling iris Sunday | boots with water and sugar, indifferently mixed, and Billy remained away, and Betsey made no sign. Dan was finally obliged to dig up and scatter the ant-hill, ' after which he" adopted a variant on Billy's devioe. He directed little Prairie's attention to a tiny spec of mica in. the sand. This he picked up and placed in a | gold pan resting on the step. "Shine," he said. "Nice shine. Baby git a shine . for uncle and put it in pan/ j She went to work at" once most faitihfully, and at length big Daa? beheld the last of her clean little" dresses a torn and diusty ruin, and the knees of her tiny stockings entirely worn away. How he got through tlhat day and night he could never have told. Sunday morning he was heartsore and exhaustedi. Betsey had' ignored! him utterly, and little ( Prairie had not. It was a bright, warm morning. Seated on his doorstep hei finished! a flour-sack garment for the busy little tot in his keeping, and kept her at work fetching tiny specks of dross. When at length the dress he had made was placed upon her he leaned against the hut in relicf — and dropped in slumber most profound. 1 For a long time the baby failed to disturb him with her grains of sand. For fully !an hour he was lost to the world. Then , he finally stirred, resumed consciousness, I and sat up to look for the child. I It was a,ll in vain. The hillside was silent, deserted, mocking. In greater and ' greater circles the man went racing over the slopes and depressions of the hill. To every large rock or clump of rocks he sped in feverish alarm, calling as he went, and feeling a sickening dread increase in his being. | He came upon a rattlesnake, whirring out its warning from the rocks. He killed i it, and sweat biofce o\vt anew upon his j temples and a sickening fear took possession of his vitals. Afraid to leave the place, yet afraid to permit the child to be lost like this any longer, he suddenly ran down the mountain trail at the lop of hi« speed to Billy Partridge's, for he knew he needed help. Billy was there, and, instantly partaking of Dan's alarm, he sped with him up . the hill, and ran in a fever of excitement over all the slope till nearly noon. I "We'll never see her again. She's ! gone," said Dan in the anguish of de- , *pair. " We've got to raise the alarm. I We've got to fit the whole camp out in , the hills. The boys will help us to hunt.'' I In half an hour there were twenty men swarming the sage-brush slopes in an ever enlarging circle. The alarm had spread with amazing swiftness. Miners, gamblers, teamsters, engineers, men of every occupation in the camp, had responded to the call to find little Prairie Devoe. Noon had long since gone by ; the afternoon was aging. Three times Dan White 1 had returned to his hut, from the hills above, to see if the baby might not have come, through seme miracle of chance. Three he bad turned away to search a> bpiore, with a groan at hi> iips and a dull, leaden ache in his brea,«t. At 4 o'clock he was at home once more. 15ut again, a.-- before, he niet only disappointment at the <abin. He faced the ui»rcile.-t, eApani-e of ? age-brush once again, but n.ound tiie nirvj of the hill, before lie could .start, appeared a figure that h«-Id him for a moment faintly hoping. It hus Betsey Dodd. She had lent her h it ; she had run nearly all the way from Three-mile Station ; she seemed very much distraught as she ha&tened, panting, to the cabin. " I heard — heard little Prairie was lost," she said between her gasps for breath. "I came to help — I didn't mean to sound so nasty — the other day — I — Dan, do you think you've l ooked in every place where •=!ie could bc-V" " Everywhere, Betsey : I don't knoiv ■n hat to do," raid Dan, in hi.- mannish helplessness. " Can't you think of sornet'lin'? When I .'aw you <:omin' 1 hoped that ma\ be \ou'd had her uLI the Uine.''

r "Oh, you old crank V said Betsey, nci unsympatheticaUy. "Say, Dan, have yo£ looked under the house?" "No,'" said Dan, "of course not. Sh» couldn't git under." "Oh, Lord !" exclaimed Betsey, "what do you know about kids?" i She lost no time in running to the rear of the cabin. There in half a minute she discovered a hole that something had excavated beneath the cabin's foundation. Down' on her knees she dropped at onee s and applied her eye to the opening. "I can't see a thing," she announced, "but I know she's th«re, and prob'ly sound asleep. I went under a house once myself, and I know." "If only she is ! If only she is !" said the anguished Dan, in a new, wild hope. "I don't believe she can be, Betsey — but leave me look." He got down and attempted to pierce the darkness beneath the cabin, but to no" avail. "Prairie .'"• he called. "Prairie! Babyl Miss Devoe ! come out to Uncle Dan." There was no response. "I'll dig in and see," he said, and with all his might and main he began, to scratch away the earih to enlarge the hole. But the sand lay in a shallow deposit' over the solid rock. He was baffied isf the briefest time. However, he could thrust a part of his head beneath the beam. "I see her! — she's there!" lie "cried in, joy that nearly overcame him. " Baby — ■ baby! Come out here to Uncle Dan! She's last asleep !" "What did I say?" said Betsey triumphantly. ' You can't wake her up. You'll have to hoist up the house." Dan ran for a crowbar, a block, and a beam. The man was "so glad he could scarcely think. But with Betsey to boss him and move his block and push bigrocks beneath th* rising shack to hold if while he toiled and prized, he lifted it up as a giant might have done, till it stood at a most amazing angle, and a bottle inside went crashing down and broke on the floor above the baby's head. Then she waked, and Dan crawled wildly in under there and got her in his arms. "Baby*£-was — tired," she vouchsafed in her engaging little way. "Baby— had— a — nap." Billy Partridge, worried half to death, and having seen the cabin oddly tilted on its base, came charging headlong down the hill, beheld big Dan with Prairie in his arms, and, grabbing Miss Betsey crazily about the waist, danced and yelled in his gladness like a boy. It was fully an hour before all the searchers could be summoned out of*- the mountains. Some, when they learned where little Miss Devoe had been all the time, were angry and disgusted They went home Miss Betsey Dodd finally became discouraged in her effort to remain- at the place until Billy Partridge should be gon». So, finally, when the sun was fairly sinking in the west, she started reluctantly away, with a faint hope that T)an might perhaps follow her to say good-bye. B ; g Dan hat! held to little Prairie a? if he never meant to release her from his arms again, but he gave her to Billy and walked to the summit with the prettily blushing Miss Dodd. " Betsey," he said, when they were quite out of sight, " you made me feel awful bad when you told me you wouldn't marry me if Miss Devoe stayed in my house over Sunday — d?you remember." * Beteey had been exceedingly sorry for many things said at their last important interview, but she could not confess it al 1 too abruptly. However, she smiled rougishly up at him as she said : "Well?" " Well," said Dan, in nervous fear and happiness, " she didn't stay in my house* over Sunday ; she stayed under it." Betsey smiled, then a sweet, warm chuckle from her heart. __ " I—lI — I guess that's so," she said, and suddenly moving a step forward kissed the urprepared miner 'just beneath the .eye, then turned and ran for I home like a frightened doe. Monday morning little Miss Devoe resumed hey employment of fetching tiny particles of shining sand to Uncle Dan as he sat outside "the cabin clumsily sewing on the tiny dress he had carefully washed. At length she grew weary of placing all the little grains of sand in the gold pan. She wanted her Uncle Dan to look at the pretty things.' "Shine— Undo Dan," she said, as she held up one hand for him to take; "nife — shine." He held out his hand indulgently, and into his palm she dropped a smooth bit of glistening material at which he stared in uttei- astonishment. It was . a tiny *peck of gold— a nugget no larger than the head of a pin! In sudden excitement he glanced., at the pan. There, with a lot of common «and and mica, were fully a score of similar specks that the baby had found and fetched fo lay at his feet. That afternoon Tom Devoe and nia wife came back to Poco del Oro camp to announce that the trip to Riley's had been all in vain. It had cost Tom nearly. 100 dollars to ascertain that the restaurant project was diluted consomme. - It cost Tiig Dan less than 50 excited words to make Tom his partner in a mine of goM from which little Prairie had fetched a tiny "shine." ".

A bright young Kaffir, just for fun,. . _ Sneezed down the barrel of a g>un ; And just to see how things would go He pressed the trigger with his toe. A basketful of hii remains Was gatheieri fiom adjacent plains; And now hU nibe, \ou may be sure, "When they ha^c cokls vac Woods' Pcpp«f iv.n.t Cuie.