of troops, under command of Captain Stoddard,
represented our army of occupation. Our real army of invasion was that
in buckskin and linsey and leather--twenty-nine men; whose captain,
Meriwether Lewis, was to be our official representative at the
ceremony of transfer.

De Lassus choked with emotion as he handed over the keys and the
archives which so long had been under his charge.

"Sir," said he, addressing the commander, "I speak for France as well
as for Spain. I hand over to you the title from France, as I hand over
to you the rule from Spain. Henceforth both are for you. I salute you,
gentlemen!"

With the ruffle of the few American drums the transfer was gravely
acknowledged. The flag of Spain slowly dropped from the staff where it
had floated. That of France took its place, and for one day floated by
courtesy over old St. Louis. On the morrow arose a strange new
flag--the flag of the United States. It was supported by one company
of regulars and by the little army of joint command--the army of Lewis
and Clark--twenty-nine enlisted men in leather!

"Time now, at last!" said William Clark to his friend. "Time for us to
say farewell! Boats--three of them--are waiting, and my men are
itching to see the buffalo plains. What is the latest news in the
village, Merne?" he added. "I've not been across there for two
weeks."

"News enough," said Meriwether Lewis gravely. "I just have word of the
arrival in town of none other than Colonel Aaron Burr."

"The Vice-President of the United States! What does he here? Tell me,
is he bound down the river? Is there anything in all this talk I have
heard about Colonel Burr? Is he alone?"

"No. I wish he were alone. Will, she is with him--his daughter, Mrs.
Alston!"

"Well, what of that? Oh, I know--I know, but why should you meet?"

"How can we help meeting here in the society of this little town,
whose people are like one family? They have been invited by Mr.
Chouteau to come to his house--I also am a guest there. Will, what
shall I do? It torments me!"

"Oh, tut, tut!" said light-hearted William Clark. "What shall you do?
Why, in the first place, pull the frown from your face, Merne. Now,
this young lady forsakes her husband, travels--with her father, to be
sure, but none the less she travels--along the same trail taken by a
certain young man down the Ohio, up the Mississippi, here to St.
Louis. Should you call that a torment? Not I! I should flatter myself
over it