“Ask me no questions, for conscience’ sake,” cried Mrs. Benson, who was laughing heartily. “It may be a prairie dog, or it may be a prairie squirrel. But it is good for food, and much to be desired to make you well and wise.” “It is all right,” laughed Mrs. McAlpin. “When Lewis and Clark were on the Oregon trail, nearly fifty years ago, away yonder to the north of us, they were glad to trade with the Indians for mangy dogs, sometimes, if they got any food at all.” * * * * * When Scotty awoke the following morning, after a sleep that was as refreshing as it seemed brief, the sun was creeping over the wide expanse of the Platte, making it shine like a gigantic mirror. The women and girls, who had been up for an hour, were bringing in the stock. Susannah, who had been detailed to cook the breakfast and mind the children, was baking flapjacks, and the aroma of coffee was in the air. “We can all eat at the first table now,” said Jean, as they knelt around the mess-boxes. Before the repast was finished, they were surprised to see the men who had left them for the gold mines reappear at camp, looking cheap and ashamed. Sawed-off was the first to speak. “We talked it over with Brownson and Jordan, and the four of us concluded that we couldn’t desert you, Captain. So the rest of ’em joined in.” “I reckon you got hungry,” said the Captain, dryly. “No, Captain. It wasn’t hunger; it was conscience that sent us back.” “How much cash can you put up as collateral, if I conclude to trust you again?” The crestfallen men were silent. “Seeing the risk is all mine, and all the provisions and other parts of the entire outfit are mine, and you are foot-loose and can play quits at any time, I guess we’d better not make any new deal. My gals and these widders can help drive the teams.” The self-discharged teamsters withdrew beyond hearing of the camp, and parleyed long and earnestly. “We’ve got to do something!” exclaimed Sawed-off. “Just watch them gals handle them cattle! They’ve the true grit.” “Do you s’pose the Cap’n ’d take us back if we’d pungle say fifty dollars apiece?” asked Limpy. “We can’t do better than make the offer,” said Yank. “This cash’ll come handy at the other end of the line,” said the Captain, intrusting the gold to the care of his daughters and reinstating his men, after a sharp exhortation to avoid repeating the offence. XXI _AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER_ “Oh, this wonderful Western country!” wrote Jean in her diary, under date of midnight, July 4. “After travelling so long on the banks of the Platte that we had come to look upon it as a familiar friend, we left it to the southward and turned our course up the valley of the Sweet Water, through a succession of low, wooded hills. This little river, though not more than a hundred feet wide, is quite deep, and runs like a mill-race. The water is as clear as ether, and agreeably cold.