And then as the hardy fellows gathered round him, he told the experience with which you are familiar. Even in their grief they did not forget their courtesy. He was pressed to eat, but replied that he had partaken so late in the day and was so tired that he had no appetite: all he wanted was rest. They talked a few minutes longer and then he was urged to lie down in one of the bunks. This brought the question that was on his tongue when he entered the cabin: “What are you going to do with the mail?” “I shall be on road in ten minutes,” replied one of the three, a man of slight figure, bright eyes and alert manner. “Won’t you let me take it?” They looked at one another in astonishment. Then the eldest, who had done most of the talking for his friends, said with a smile: “You haven’t any pony.” “But you have.” “You have never been over the route and don’t know the way.” “The pony does; I brought the mail here and this is the first time I was ever so far west.” “But you are worn out.” “How far is it to the next station?” “A little short of twelve miles, but a part of the way is pretty tough and you’re liable to run into redskins before you’re out of sight of the station.” The men admired the pluck of the youth, but they would have been foolish to yield to him. The mail was certainly safer in charge of one of their number than with a youth who was strange to the country. They shook their heads, and, since there was no help for it, Alden lay down on the couch which felt as delightful to his body as eider down. He could hardly keep awake while removing his clothing and five minutes after his head pressed the doubled blanket which served for a pillow, he was asleep, and did not open his eyes until the morning light streamed through the windows and the door that was drawn far back. One of the men was preparing breakfast and the odor of the steaming coffee and broiling venison was the sweetest perfume that could greet a hungry person. The others were outside looking after the ponies and attending to their ablutions. After greeting his host, Alden was directed to the spring near at hand, where he bathed and drank. That finished, he surveyed the emigrant camp. Everything there was bustle and activity. Breakfast was also in course of preparation, and men were corraling the animals that were cropping the lush grass and holding back from harness and yoke. “They won’t start for an hour,” reflected Alden, as he walked back to the cabin; “after breakfast, I’ll go over and call on Mr. Ross Brandley. He must have learned of my arrival from his uncle, and there shouldn’t be any trouble about arranging for a meeting between him and me. We are both traveling in the same direction, and I don’t think he feels backward about that little matter. In fact he has proved he doesn’t. I’ll give him the fight of his life!”