“There she blows!” The wind had grown chill and moist, the quacking ducks were thickening on the pools, and strange noises came from ghostly swells and hidden creeks. The tired horses moved forward with soundless feet upon the sod, which had softened during the day. They quickened their steps when they saw the lantern shine from the pole before the building. The light of the lamp, and the sight of Blanche standing in the doorway of the cabin at the back of the store-room, was a beautiful sight to Burke. Set over against the wet, dark prairie, with its boundless sweep of unknown soil, the shanty seemed a radiant palace. “Supper’s all ready, Willard!” called Blanche, and the tired man’s heart leaped with joy to hear the tender, familiar cadence of her voice. It was her happy voice, and when she used it men were her slaves. Bailey came out with one of the land-seekers. “Go in to supper, boys; we’ll take care of the teams,” was his hearty command. The tired freighters gladly did as they were bid, and, scooping up some water from a near-by hollow on the sod, hurriedly washed their faces and sat down to a supper of chopped potatoes, bacon and eggs, and tea (which Blanche placed steaming hot upon the table), and in such joy as only the weary worker knows. Mrs. Burke was in high spirits. The novelty of the trip, the rude shanty, with its litter of shavings, and its boxes for chairs, the bundles of hay for beds, gave her something like the same pleasure a picnic might have done. It appealed to the primeval in her. She forgot her homesickness and her vague regrets, and her smiles filled her husband with content. Rivers and the others soon came in, and after supper there was a great deal of energetic talk. The young land-seekers were garrulous with delight over their claims, which they proudly exalted above the stumps and stones of the farms “back home.” “Why, it took three generations of my folks to clear off forty acres of land,” said one of them. “They just wore themselves out on it. I told Hank he could have it, and I’d go West and see if there wasn’t some land out there which wouldn’t take a man’s lifetime to grub out and smooth down. And I’ve found it.” Rivers had plainly won the friendship of Mrs. Burke, for they were having a jolly time together over by the table, where he was helping to wash the dishes. He had laughing, brown eyes, and a pleasant voice, and was one of the most popular of the lawyers and land-agents in Boomtown. There was a boyish quality in him which kept him giving and taking jocular remarks. Bailey sometimes said: “Rivers would shine up to a seventy-year-old Sioux squaw if she was the only woman handy, but he don’t mean anything by it--it’s just his way. He’s one o’ the best-hearted fellers that ever lived.” Others took a less favorable view of the land-agent, and refused to trust him.