Some day， mebbe， I’m going to talk with DoctorDalrymple and get him to give me a declaration that I ain’ta feeb. Then I’ll get him to make me a real assistant in thedrooling ward， with forty dollars a month and my board.
And then I’ll marry Miss Jones and live right on here. Andif she won’t have me， I’ll marry Miss Kelsey or some othernurse. There’s lots of them that want to get married. And Iwon’t care if my wife gets mad and calls me a feeb. What’sthe good？ And I guess when one’s learned to put up withdroolers a wife won’t be much worse.
I didn’t tell you about when I ran away. I hadn’t no ideaof such a thing， and it was Charley and Joe who put me upto it. They’re high-grade epilecs， you know. I’d been up toDoctor Wilson’s office with a message， and was going backto the drooling ward， when I saw Charley and Joe hidingaround the corner of the gymnasium and making motionsto me. I went over to them.
“Hello，” Joe said. “How’s droolers？”
“Fine，” I said. “Had any fits lately？”
That made them mad， and I was going on， when Joesaid， “We’re running away. Come on.”
“What for？” I said.
“We’re going up over the top of the mountain，” Joe said.
“And find a gold mine，” said Charley. “We don’t have fitsany more. We’re cured.”
“All right，” I said. And we sneaked around back of thegymnasium and in among the trees. Mebbe we walkedalong about ten minutes， when I stopped.
“What’s the matter？” said Joe.
“Wait，” I said. “I got to go back.”
“What for？” said Joe.
And I said， “To get little Albert.”
And they said I couldn’t， and got mad. But I didn’tcare. I knew they’d wait. You see， I’ve been here twentyfiveyears， and I know the back trails that lead up themountain， and Charley and Joe didn’t know those trails.
That’s why they wanted me to come.
So I went back and got little Albert. He can’t walk， ortalk， or do anything except drool， and I had to carry himin my arms. We went on past the last hayfield， which wasas far as I’d ever gone. Then the woods and brush got sothick， and me not finding any more trail， we followed thecow-path down to a big creek and crawled through thefence which showed where the Home land stopped.
We climbed up the big hill on the other side of thecreek. It was all big trees， and no brush， but it was sosteep and slippery with dead leaves we could hardly walk.
By and by we came to a real bad place. It was forty feetacross， and if you slipped you’d fall a thousand feet， ormebbe a hundred. Anyway， you wouldn’t fall—just slide. Iwent across first， carrying little Albert. Joe came next. ButCharley got scared right in the middle and sat down.
“I’m going to have a fit，” he said.
“No， you’re not，” said Joe. “Because if you was youwouldn’t ’a’ sat down. You take all your fits standing.”
“This is a different kind of a fit，” said Charley， beginningto cry.
He shook and shook， but just because he wanted to hecouldn’t scare up the least kind of a fit.
Joe got mad and used awful language. But that didn’thelp none. So I talked soft and kind to Charley. That’sthe way to handle feebs. If you get mad， they get worse.
I know. I’m that way myself. That’s why I was almost thedeath of Mrs. Bopp. She got mad.
It was getting along in the afternoon， and I knew we hadto be on our way， so I said to Joe：
“Here， stop your cussing and hold Albert. I’ll go backand get him.”
And I did， too； but he was so scared and dizzy hecrawled along on hands and knees while I helped him.
When I got him across and took Albert back in my arms，I heard somebody laugh and looked down. And there wasa man and woman on horseback looking up at us. He hada gun on his saddle， and it was her who was laughing.
“Who in hell’s that？” said Joe， getting scared. “Somebodyto catch us？”
“Shut up your cussing，” I said to him. “That is the manwho owns this ranch and writes books.”
“How do you do， Mr. Endicott，” I said down to him.
“Hello，” he said. “What are you doing here？”
“We’re running away，” I said.
And he said， “Good luck. But be sure and get backbefore dark.”
“But this is a real running away，” I said.