it, he's been here so long."

"Well, well!" said she, her face brightening a little at the news.

"How's Alan by now?"

"Up and around--he's goin' to leave us in the morning."

"Frances here?" he asked.

"No, she went over home this morning--I thought maybe you met her--but
she's comin' back for him in the morning."

Banjo sat musing a little while. Then--

"Yes, you'll have neighbors, mom, plenty of 'em. A colony of nesters
is comin' here, three or four hundred of 'em, they tell me, all ready
to go to puttin' up schoolhouses and go to plowin' in the spring. And
they're goin' to run that hell-snortin' railroad right up this valley.
I reckon it'll cut right along here somewheres a'past your place."

"Yes, changes'll come, Banjo, changes is bound to come," she sighed.

"All over this country, they say, the nesters'll squat now wherever
they want to, and nobody won't dast to take a shot at 'em to drive 'em
off of his grass. They put so much in the papers about this rustlers'
war up here that folks has got it through 'em the nesters ain't been
gittin' what was comin' to 'em. The big ranches 'll all be split up to
flinders inside of five years."

"Yes, the cattle days is passin', along with the folks that was
somebody in this country once. Well, Banjo, we had some good times in
the old days; we can remember them. But changes will come, we must
expect changes. You don't need to pack up and go on account of that. I
ain't goin' to leave."

"I've made up my mind. I'm beginnin' to feel tight in the chist
already for lack of air."

Both sat silent a little while. Banjo's elbows were across his knees,
his face lifted toward the window. The wind was falling, and there was
a little breaking among the low clouds, baring a bit of blue sky here
and there. Banjo viewed this brightening of the day with gladness.

"I guess it's passin'," he said, going to the window and peering round
as much of the horizon as he could see, "it wasn't nothing but a
little shakin' out of the tablecloth after breakfast."

"I'm glad of it, for I don't think it's good luck to start out on a
trip in a storm. That there Nola she's out in it, too."

"Gone up the river?"

"Yes. It beats all how she's takin' up with them people, and them with
her. She's even bought lumber with her own money to help some of 'em
build."

"She's got a heart like a dove," he sighed.

"As soft as a puddin'," Mrs. Chadron nodded.

"But I never could git to it." Ba