and we can have a J. Murphy that is bigger than a whole lot of
houses in this country. You don't want to go back there, do you?"

She shook her head.

"No, it would hurt me to see it now. I should be expecting to see him at
every turn. Oh, I couldn't stand that--poor sorry little father!"

"Well, then, leave it all; leave the place to the women, and good
riddance, and come off with me. I'll send one of the boys back with a
pack-mule for any plunder you want to bring away, and you needn't ever
see the place again."

She nestled in his arms, feeling in her grief the comfort of his
tenderness.

"Yes, take me away now."

The big whips could be heard plainly, cracking like rifle-shots, and
shortly came the creaking and hollow rumbling of the wagons and the
cries of the teamsters to their six-mule teams. There were shouts and
calls, snatches of song from along the line, then the rattling of
harness, and in a cloud of dust the train was beside them, the teamsters
sitting with rounded shoulders up under the bowed covers of the big
wagons.

A hail came from the rear of the train, and a bronzed and bearded man in
a leather jacket cantered up on a small pony.

"Hello there, Rool! I'm whoopin' glad to see you!"

He turned to the driver of the foremost wagon.

"All right, boys! We'll make a layby for noon."

Follett shook hands with him heartily, and turned to Prudence.

"This is my wife, Lew. Prudence, this is Lew Steffins, our
wagon-master."

"Shoo, now!--you young cub--married? Well, I'm right glad to see Mrs.
Rool Follett--and bless your heart, little girl!"

"Did you stop back there at the settlement?"

"Yes; and they said you'd hit the pike about dark last night, to chase a
crazy man. I told them I'd be back with the whackers if I didn't find
you. I was afraid some trouble was on, and here you're only married to
the sweetest thing that ever--why, she's been crying! Anything wrong?"

"No; never mind now, anyway. We're going on with you, Lew."

"Bully proud to have you. There's that third wagon--"

"Could I ride in that?" asked the girl, looking at the big lumbering
conveyance doubtfully.

"It carried six thousands pounds of freight to Los Angeles, little
woman," answered Steffins, promptly, "and I wouldn't guess you to heft
over one twenty-eight or thirty at the outside. I'll have the box filled
in with spruce boughs and a lot of nice bunch-grass, and put some
comforts over that, and you'll be all snug a