d Plymouth Rock again. My granddaddy was a minute-man at
Lexington. Say"--he paused, and his sober face turned sad--"if all the
bean-eaters who claim their grandpas were minute-men tell the truth,
there wasn't no glory in winning at Lexington, there was such a
tremendous sight of 'em. I've heard about eight million men myself make
the same claim. But my granddad was the real article in the minute-men
business. And I've always admired his grit most of any man in the world.
He was about your shape, I reckon, from his picture that old man Copley
got out. But, man! he wasn't a patchin' on your coat-sleeve. You are the
preposterous-est unlawful-est infamous-est man I ever saw. It's just
straight murder and suicide you are bent on, takin' this awful chance of
plungin' into a warrin', snake-eatin' country like New Mexico, and I
like you for it. Will you take me as an added burden? If you will, I'll
deposit the price of my state-room right now. I've got only a little wad
of money to get well on or die on. I can spend it either way--not much
difference which. My name is Krane, Rex Krane, and in spite of such a
floopsy name I hail from Boston, U.S.A."

There was a hopeless sagging about the young man's mouth, redeemed only
by the twinkle in his eye.

Esmond Clarenden gave him a steady measuring look. He estimated men
easily, and rarely failed to estimate truly.

"I'll take you on your face value," he answered, "and if you want to
turn back there will be a chance to do it out a hundred miles or more on
the trail. You can try it that far and see how you like it. I'll furnish
you your board. There are always plenty of bedrooms on the ground floor
and in one of the wagons on rainy nights. You can take a shift driving a
team now and then, and every able-bodied man has to do guard duty some
of the time. You understand the dangers of the situation by this time.
Here comes my man," he added, as the horse-dealer appeared, leading a
string of mules up the street.

"Here's your critters. Take your choice," the dealer urged.

"I'll take the brown one," my uncle replied, promptly. And the bargain
was closed.

Mat and Beverly and I had already climbed into our wagon, and Aunty
Boone appeared now at the store door, ready to join us.

"You takin' that nigger?" the trader asked.

"Yes. Lead out your best offer now. I want another mule," Esmond
Clarenden replied.

But the horse-merchant proved to be harder to deal with than the crowd
ha