Nevertheless, Joe worried a great deal about the mule. It belonged to the army, and they must go to Camp Axton to return it. Joe had a hunch the army would take a dim view of anyone found with one of their mules. Likely they'd be able to convince the commandant that they were not themselves mule thieves. The real problem, though, was that the army was always on the lookout for more mules, but didn't sell any. He confided his worries to Ellis one night after the children were asleep and Barbara and Emma were washing dishes by the fire's leaping light. "First off," he said, "it's going to take them some time while they investigate us to make sure we're not rustlers. Then it's going to take some more time until someone else comes through that can sell us a mule. And meanwhile the best plowing and planting time is getting away from us every day that we wait." "They'll sell us an army mule," Ellis said, with the bland optimism of youth. "Not a chance," said Joe glumly. "Those army men are only interested in one thing--regulations." "Just the same," said Ellis, "we can explain to them about plowing and planting time. Obviously we can't make a crop if we can't reach our land on time. Even an Army man can understand that." "Army regulations," said Joe, "do not concern themselves with the planting time of strangers." Ellis chuckled. "Army men can be human, like anybody else." He smiled softly, because Barbara had just slipped over into the circle of his arm. "I'm for looking on the bright side of things," he insisted. "Naturally," Joe grinned. He left them and walked over to the wagon. By the fire's light he examined the plow. Joe ran his fingers over the implement, and in his soul felt a vast longing to take it off and use it. A plow meant to him what a rifle meant to Jim Snedeker. It was part of his life, a tool he had been born to use. Joe left the wagon and sat on a block of firewood very close to Emma. Emma's face was upturned to the sky, and she breathed deeply of the fragrant prairie breeze. Joe's hand stole out to hers, and she turned eagerly to him. "It's like being born again, isn't it?" "Are you glad we came, darling?" "Oh, yes I am! Now I am! Lots of times along the way I had regrets. And then, I was cowardly at the beginning." "Cautious," Joe corrected. "No, _cowardly_," insisted Emma. "Afraid to take a chance on anything. We took such a big chance, starting so late, with all the children. But Joe! I wouldn't undo it, not a single moment of it, not even the moments when I was miserable and angry and scared half to death! It's taught me so much about--about what courage can do." She turned to him. "I want to say something from the bottom of my heart, darling. I wouldn't have come if you hadn't _made_ me come. And now, Joe, I want to thank you for making me come. Thank you, Joe." Her eyes were swimming. He laughed deep in his chest and blotted up her happy tears tenderly with the corner of her own kerchief.