as if he had a history. A long scar ran across
one cheek and drew the corner of his mouth
up in a sinister curl. The top of his left ear
was gone, and his skin was brown as an In-
dian's. Surely this was the face of a desper-
ado. As he walked about the platform in his
high-heeled boots, looking for our trunks, I
saw that he was a rather slight man, quick
and wiry, and light on his feet. He told us
we had a long night drive ahead of us, and
had better be on the hike. He led us to a
hitching-bar where two farm wagons were
tied, and I saw the foreign family crowding
into one of them. The other was for us. Jake
got on the front seat with Otto Fuchs, and I
rode on the straw in the bottom of the wagon-
box, covered up with a buffalo hide. The im-
migrants rumbled off into the empty dark-
ness, and we followed them.

I tried to go to sleep, but the jolting made
me bite my tongue, and I soon began to ache
all over. When the straw settled down I had
a hard bed. Cautiously I slipped from under
the buffalo hide, got up on my knees and
peered over the side of the wagon. There
seemed to be nothing to see; no fences, no
creeks or trees, no hills or fields. If there was

[[7]]

p006x1b _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p007w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p008

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