t you join the army? You'd have a chance to see a
lot more of the country, if this Mexican War goes on," Rex Krane said,
meditatively.

"I'd rather be my own captain and order myself to the front, and
likewise command my rear-guard to retire, whenever I doggone please,"
Bill said. "It isn't the soldiers that'll do this country the most good.
They are useful enough when they are useful, Lord knows. And we'll
always need a decent few of 'em around to look after women and children,
and invalids," he went on. "I tell you, Krane, it's men like Clarenden
that's going to make these prairies worth something one of these days.
The men who build up business, not them that shoot and run to or from.
That's what the West's got to have. I'm through going crazy about army
folks. One man that buys and sells, if he gives good weight and measure,
is, himself, a whole regiment for civilization."

Just then Jondo halted the train, and we gathered about him.

"Clarenden, let's pitch camp at the rock. The horses are dead tired and
this wind is making them nervous. There's a storm due as soon as it lays
a bit, and we would be sort of protected here. A tornado's a giant out
in this country, you know."

"This tavern doesn't have a very good name with the traveling public,
does it, Clarenden?" Rex Krane suggested.

"Not very," my uncle replied. "But in case of trouble, the top of it
isn't a bad place to shoot from."

"What if the other fellow gets there first?" Bill Banney inquired.

"We can run from here as easily as any other place," Jondo assured us.
"I haven't seen a sign of Indians yet. But we've got to be careful. This
point has a bad reputation, and I naturally begin to _feel_ Indians in
the air as soon as I come in sight of it. If we need the law of the
trail anywhere, we need it here," he admonished.

Beverly and I drew close together. We were in the land of _bad_ Indians,
but nothing had happened to us yet, and we could not believe that any
danger was near us now, although we were foolishly half hoping that
there might be, for the excitement of it.

"There's no place in a million miles for anybody to hide, Bill. Where
would Jondo's Indians be?" Beverly asked, as we were getting into camp
order for the night.

Beverly's disposition to demand proof was as strong here as it had been
in the matter of rivers turning their courses, and fishes playing
leap-frog.

"They might be behind that ridge out north, and have a scout lying