He gave a little grip to the tiny hand that held the doll, and all the
others did the same. Little Skeezucks looked at them gravely, his
quaint baby face playing havoc with their rough hearts.

"Softest little fingers I ever felt," said Webber. "I'd give twenty
dollars if he'd laugh at me once."

"Awful nice little shaver," said another.

"I once had a mighty touchin' story happen to me, myself," said Keno,
solemnly.

"What was it?" inquired a sympathetic miner.

"Couldn't bear to tell it--not this mornin'," said Keno. "Too
touchin'."

"Good-bye fer just at present, little Skeezucks," said Field, and,
suddenly divesting himself of his brazen watch and chain, he offered it
up as a gift, with spontaneous generosity. "Want it, Skeezucks?" said
he. "Don't you want to hear it go?"

The little man would relax neither his clutch on Jim's collar nor his
hold of his doll, wherefore he had no hand with which to accept the
present.

"Do you think he runs a pawn-shop, Field?" said the teamster. "Put it
back."