the boss's
family.

Bob Birnie and another man turned and came trotting back, and at the
call a scrambling youngster peered over his mother's shoulder in the
forward opening of the prairie schooner.

"O-oh, Dulcie! We gonna git a wile cow agin!"

Dulcie was asleep and did not answer, and the woman in the slat
sun-bonnet pushed back with her elbow the eager, squirming body of her
eldest. "Stay in the wagon, Buddy. Mustn't get down amongst the oxen.
One might kick you. Lie down and take a nap with sister. When you waken
it will be nice and cool again."

"Not s'eepy!" objected Buddy for the twentieth time in the past two
hours. But he crawled back, and his mother, relieved of his restless
presence, leaned forward to watch the approach of her husband and the
cowboy. This was the second time in the past two days that an ox had
fallen exhausted, and her eyes showed a trace of anxiety. With the feed
so poor and the water so scarce, it seemed as though the heavy wagon,
loaded with a few household idols too dear to leave behind, a camp
outfit and the necessary clothing and bedding for a woman and two
children, was going to be a real handicap on the drive.

"Robert, if we had another wagon, I could drive it and make the load
less for these four oxen," she suggested when her husband came up. "A
lighter wagon, perhaps with one team of strong horses, or even with a
yoke of oxen, I could drive well enough, and relieve these poor brutes."
She pushed back her sun-bonnet and with it a mass of red-brown hair that
curled damply on her forehead, and smiled disarmingly. "Buddy would be
the happiest baby boy alive if I could let him drive now and then!" she
added humorously.

"Can't make a wagon and an extra yoke of oxen out of this cactus patch,"
Bob Birnie grinned good humoredly. "Not even to tickle Buddy. I'll see
what I can do when we reach Olathe. But you won't have to take a man's
place and drive, Lassie." He took the cup of water she drew from a keg
and proffered-water was precious on the Staked Plains, that season-and
his eyes dwelt on her fondly while he drank. Then, giving her hand a
squeeze when he returned the cup, he rode back to scan the herd for an
animal big enough and well-conditioned enough to supplant the worn-out
ox.

"Aren't you thirsty, Frank Davis? I think a cup of water will do you
good," she called out to the cowboy, who had dismounted to tighten his
forward cinch in expectation of having to use his rope.