"Every one was talking about the Black Hills then, and that was why we headed this way. Well, we figured out that the railway fares from St. Louis 'round to Sidney and north to the Hills were so much higher than the steamboat fare from St. Louis to Pierre, that we could save enough to buy a team of ponies and a buckboard at Pierre, and then cross the Plains with the settlers going in and be ahead by the value of the team, which would be needed in our country business anyhow." "Time didn't count?" interrupted Carson. "Not much; and we wanted to see the country." "By George! I wish I'd been with ye," said Jim. "If only it had been a saddle trip it would have been perfect." "Perfect!" exclaimed the little man; "I wish you could have seen us. The farther we went up that endless river of mud the worse it seemed; and when we landed at Pierre it did seem the last of all creation. "I didn't have much heart to buy the ponies, but Hannah kept with me and never once seemed to feel discouraged. But when we crossed the river with our outfit and really set out on the blank, bleak plains, I tell ye, we felt heart-sick, sore, and lonesome--at least, I did." At this moment Hannah came in from the kitchen and took the lead in conversation. "Has John been giving you an outline of our policy in the matter of lapsing premiums and residuary annuities?" "Now, Hannah," replied John, "I think that is a little too much like business for friendly callers." "Business is always in order in the office," was Hannah's retort. "I understand," said John, "that the Methodists are very strong in Cedar Mountain." "Well, we think so," answered Hartigan. "Good," said Higginbotham. "I have always felt that it was wisest to associate myself with the church that was spiritually strongest. I am not in sympathy with narrow views." He did not mention the fact that in Bootlebury he had associated himself with the Unitarians for the same reason. A loud sizzling in the next room caused Hannah to spring up heavily and return to the kitchen. Jim was more interested in their venturesome trip across the Plains than in reasons for doctrinal affiliation, and he steered the conversation by saying: "How did you come out on the Plains trip?" And John bubbled on with a mixture of fun, pathos, and frank admiration for his wife that appealed strongly to both hearers. His gift of language was copious without being varied or clever, but his homely phrases carried the thought.