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But the baby would cry, and, in spite of all the young woman ‘nd the nigger could do, Colonel Elijah Gates heard the baby cryin’, and so he waked up. First his two blue yarn socks come through the curtains, ‘nd then his long legs ‘nd long body ‘nd long face hove into sight. He come down the car to the young woman, ‘nd looked at her over his specs. Did n’t seem to be the least bit mad; jest solemn ‘nd bizness like.

“My dear madam,” sez he to the young woman, “you must do sumpin’ to keep that child quiet. These people have all paid for their bunks, ‘nd they are entitled to a good night’s sleep. Of course I know how ‘t is with young children–will cry sometimes–have raised ‘leven uv ’em myself, ‘nd know, all about ’em. But as a director uv the Han’-bul ‘nd St. Jo I ‘ve got to pertect the rights of these other folks. So jist keep the baby quiet as you kin.”

Now, there war n’t nothin’ cross in the colonel’s tone; the colonel wuz as kind ‘nd consid’rit as could be expected uv a man who hed so much responsibility a-restin’ onto him. But the young woman was kind uv nervous, ‘nd after the colonel went back ‘nd got into his bunk the young woman sniffled and worrited and seemed like she had lost her wits, ‘nd the baby kep’ cryin’ jist as hard as ever.

Waal, there wuz n’t much sleepin’ to be done in that car, for what with the baby cryin’, ‘nd the young woman a-sayin’, “Oh, dear!” ‘nd “Oh, my!” and the nigger a-prancin’ round like the widder bewitched–with all this goin’ on, sleep wuz out uv the question. Folks began to wake up ‘nd put their heads outern their bunks to see what wuz the doggone matter. This made things pleasanter for the young woman. The colonel stood it as long as he could, and then he got up a second time ‘nd come down the car ‘nd looked at the young woman over his specs.

“Now, as I wuz tellin’ you afore,” sez he, “I hain’t makin’ no complaint uv myself, for I ‘ve raised a family of ‘leven children, ‘nd I know all about ’em. But these other folks here in the car have paid for a good night’s sleep, ‘nd it ‘s my duty as a director uv the Han’bul ‘nd St. Jo to see that they get it. Seems to me like you ought to be able to keep that child quiet–you can’t make me believe that there’s any use for a child to be carryin’ on so. Sumpin ‘s hurtin’ it–I know sumpin ‘s hurtin’ it by the way it cries. Now, you look ‘nd see if there ain’t a pin stickin’ into it somewhere; I ‘ve raised ‘leven children, ‘nd that ‘s jist the way they used to cry when there wuz a pin stickin’ em.”

He reckoned he ‘d find things all right this time, ‘nd he went back to his bunk feelin’ toler’ble satisfied with himself. But the young woman could n’t find no pin stickin’ the baby, ‘nd, no matter how much she stewed and worrited, the baby kep’ right on cryin’, jest the same. Holy smoke! but how that baby did cry.

Now, I reckoned that the colonel would be gettin’ almighty mad if this thing kep’ up much longer. A man may raise ‘leven children as easy as rollin’ off ‘n a log, ‘nd yet the twelfth one, that is n’t his at all, may break him. There is ginerally a last straw, even when it comes to the matter uv children.

So when the colonel riz feet foremost for the third time outern his bunk that night–or, I should say, mornin’, for it was mighty near mornin’ now–we looked for hail Columby.