ally has
th' upper hand. There's one thing books never rightly teached no boy,
an' that's lookin' ahead. I've often wondered why they didn't pay more
'tention t' that, but mostly a boy has t' learn it for himself. If he
happens t' be born in the wilderness he just nach'lly has t' learn it,
or I reckon he'd die."

Whitey fidgeted about, knowing that Bill was on one of his favorite
topics, and wouldn't stop and tell the rest of his news until he was run
down.

"Take Injun, f'r instance," Bill went on. "He's got a way o' figurin'
out things that's wonderful, an' once in a while that way o' figurin'
has saved his life. They's a highbrow word for that stuff, an' it's
'observation.' You just stick to that observation thing, kid, an' you'll
find it a heap o' use t' you in this country."

Whitey knew of Injun's wonderful powers of observation which he had
often shown on the trail, but could not help thinking that some of his
red friend's cleverness was due to the lore inherited from his Indian
ancestors, with their knowledge of the wild and of the habits of its
beasts and birds. But Bill droned on while Whitey squirmed with
impatience, and presently a welcome interruption came in the person of
Shorty Palmer, who dashed into the room.

"Say, Bill," Shorty cried, "you got th' new time-table?"

"Sure," said Bill. "Last time I was to the Junction."

"Well, didn't you notice that th' Eastern Express leaves two hours
earlier now?"

"No."

"It does, an' you'll have t' burn up th' prairie t' make it, an' Buck's
got th' team all hitched, an' John Big Moose's just throwin' things into
his trunk, an' you'd best get a move on."

"Jumpin' garter snakes!" cried Bill. "I never--"

"Oh," Whitey interrupted, "this observation thing is great stuff. And
you just stick to it, and--"

"Shucks, I ain't got no time t' argue with kids," said Bill, and
started for the door.

"Hold on," called Whitey. "What was that other news you were going to
tell me?"

"Nothin'," said Bill, "'cept your father writes that now John Big Moose
is goin', you an' Injun'll have t' go t' school at th' Forks," and he
hurried from the bunk house, followed by Shorty.

Whitey sank down on a stool in despair. Gone were the dreams of
adventure, of wild geese and bears just wakening from their winter's
sleep. School! And with those few kids at the Forks!

"What's the use of anything?" Whitey muttered dejectedly.

And Bull, who at times was very sympathetic, lo