“I stole three hundred dollars—it was my own money—from Mother O’Dowd,” she whispered. “It didn’t seem so very wicked. She got my home without any equivalent, you know.” “Oh, Sally! How could you?” asked Mrs. Ranger, her cheeks blanching. “Do you think it was wicked to take my own money and my own children, when I had the opportunity?” “It was a theft, certainly, under the law; and it is always wrong to steal,” retorted Mrs. Ranger. “We must uphold the majesty of the law, if necessary, at the muzzle of our guns!” said the Captain, loftily. “How about Dugs and her coon?” asked Jean, with a silvery laugh. “That was different. Slavery, as I have often said before, is wrong, and no contingency can make it right.” “You are making a distinction where there is no perceptible difference, except in the matter of complexion,” exclaimed Mrs. Ranger. “Did Dugs, the slave, have money?” asked Mrs. O’Dowd. “Dugs hasn’t taken me into her confidence,” said the Captain. “What in creation are we to do with you all?” “There’ll be a way, John; don’t worry,” said his wife. “‘Trust in the Lord and do good, and verily thou shalt be fed.’” “Do you know,” said Sally, turning to the Captain, “that the pretty little blonde in black, whom I see over yonder, is a jewel? I met her on the street this morning, on her way to the ferry, with her mother and her carriage and wagons and drivers. I was getting desperate with the fear that I couldn’t overtake you; and I knew there was no time to be lost. So I told her my story. I may have exaggerated somewhat, for I told her you had agreed to take me and the babies to Oregon. I said I had been detained (which was true) and I must overtake you before you crossed the river. She didn’t wait to ask a question, but bundled us all into her carriage without a word.” “Didn’t I tell you you could trust my daddie?” asked Jean, aside. “He’s a whole lot better than he thinks he is.” “Father thinks he is a stickler for the law,” said Mary, with a chuckle. * * * * * Indians came and went in great numbers around and into the company’s first night’s camp on the plains, sometimes growing insolent in their persistent demands for food and articles of clothing, but on the whole peaceable and friendly. Every man, woman, and child was under orders to give them no cause for offence, the Captain hoping, by example, to disarm hostility. But he soon learned that this liberal policy brought hordes of beggars; and the necessity of carefully guarding their freight was made apparent the next morning, when they found their breakfast supplies had been stolen, and with them the cooking utensils. The Captain found it necessary to send a messenger back to St. Joseph to purchase fresh supplies before they could go on. The next day’s drive over the beautiful prairie was without unusual incident. The roads were good, the soil rich, and the undulating landscape perfect.