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Presently he laughed.
"Well fellers! Look what I've annexed! And I was hunting a dog! Well,
she's lots better. She won't eat much more, she can talk, and she'll be
something alive waiting when I come home. Gee, I'm _glad_ I found her."
Mickey set the washtub on the floor near the sleeping child, and filling
the dishpan with water, put it over the gasoline burner. Then he produced
soap, a towel, and comb. He looked at the child again, and going to the
box that contained his mother's clothing he hunted out a nightdress. Then
he sat down to wait for the water to heat. The door slammed when he went
after a bucket of cold water, and awakened the girl. She looked at him,
then at his preparations.
"I ain't going to be washed," she said. "It'll hurt me. Put me on the
bed."
"Put you on my bed, dirty like you are?" cried Mickey. "I guess not! You
are going to be a soaped lady. If it hurts, you can be consoling yourself
thinking it will be the last time, 'cause after this you'll be washed
every day so you won't need skinning alive but once.


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