He had told his companion, while under the spell of the other's frank confidence concerning himself, that his father had only recently died. “It was him being so old and all crippled up that held me,” he had said. “Or you bet I'd a been out here long ago. Of course I knew he couldn't last forever, but when he did go, I had such a heap of trouble settling up and selling out, some times I almost wished he hadn't died at all.” And his friend, bearing in mind this recent bereavement, usually addressed him as “Mr. Orphan.” After they crossed the dry bed of the stream, the valley narrowed to a pass again; and the jutting rocks seemed almost to touch high above their heads. The red-whiskered man spoke again in his soft drawl. “Ain't this the doggondest country? And I was well fixed back yonder in old Missouri. I owned as good a farm as ever lay out doors; right on the river it was, and I was selling rotten fence rails to steamboats at cord wood prices. I certainly wish I was roosting on that old punk pile of mine right now—I do so.” Jim shrugged his shoulders. “Seems like I've heard of that farm of yours before, maybe it was yesterday,” he said with fine sarcasm. “Why, you dough-faced son of a gun, I bet there ain't such land in the whole State of Illinoy. Illinoy! I like to bust when I hear a man talk of Illinoy!” “Like enough,” said Jim stolidly. The Missourian groaned aloud. “Eight head of mules gone to thunder, and they was good mules, too; two wagons, and a whole raft of other stuff; why, man, we began to chuck away dry-goods, and grub, and lickers, and tools, from the time we crossed the Platte!” “Well, we wasn't the only one's done it,” retorted Jim. “No,” said the Missourian, “we wasn't. I ain't complaining, but I want this heah country to know what I think of it; for I don't reckon I'll ever pass this way again—not any!” with emphasis; then he subsided into his usual drawl. “Say, I reckon it's a whole heap nearer hell than any other section of these heah United States.” He relapsed into silence, and they rode on without speech for another half mile; then the Missourian spoke again, sadly, plaintively. “I was certainly doing well back yonder. I was making money hand over fist; and like a doggone fool I had to lope off out heah. I had no more gumption than that!” “Well, this suits me,” said Jim. “I suspicioned it did; but I allow if any one had a told me a year ago that I'd be tackling a thousand miles of God knows what, with these heah legs of mine hung over a spavined, wind-broke, saddle-galled, caterpiller of a mule, I'd a been fighting mad; but the Lord's with us, Mr. Orphan, He says you mustn't be in any thing of a sweat for riches—and we all certainly ain't. My, what a country! Nary a drop of water fit to drink; nary a stick of timber fit to burn; nary a blade of grass; but I reckon it will get some better when we strike the Mormon country. Ever know anything about the Mormons in Illinoy, Jim?” Jim shook his head.