d we were to wait for them under it. Why cant
we just as well stay heer? 'Taint like they'll be long now. They wont
dally a minute, I know, after they've clutched the shiners, an' I guess
they got 'em most as soon as we'd secured these pair o' petticoats.
Besides they'll come quicker than we've done, seeing as they're more
like to be pursooed. It's a ugly bit o' track 'tween here an' the big
tree, both sides thorny bramble that'll tear the duds off our backs, to
say nothin' o' the skin from our faces. In my opinion we oughter stay
where we air till the rest jeins us."

"No," responds the lieutenant, in tone more authoritative, "We mustn't
remain here. Besides, we cant tell what may have happened to them.
Suppose they have to fight for it, and get forced to take the upper
crossing. In that case--"

The speaker makes pause, as if perceiving a dilemma.

"In that case," interpolates the unwilling Bill, "we'd best not stop
heer at all, but put straight for head-quarters on the creek. How d'ye
incline to that way of it?"

"Something in what you say," answers the lieutenant. Then adding, after
a pause, "It isn't likely they'll meet any obstruction. The half-breed
Indian said he had arranged everything clear as clock-work. They're
safe sure to come this way, and 'twont do for us to go on without them.
Besides, there's a reason you appear not to think of. Neither you nor I
know the trail across the upper plain. We might get strayed there, and
if so, we'd better be in hell?"

After the profane utterance succeeds a short interval of silence, both
men apparently cogitating. The lieutenant is the first to resume.

"Bosley," he says, speaking in a sage tone, and for the first time
addressing the subordinate by his family name. "On the prairies, as
elsewhere, one should always be true to a trust, and keep it when one
can. If there were time, I could tell you a curious story of one who
tried but couldn't. It's generally the wisest way, and I think it's
that for us now. We might make a mess of it by changing from the
programme understood--which was for us to wait under the oak. Besides
I've got a reason of my own for being there a bit--something you can't
understand, and don't need telling about. And time's precious too; so
spin ahead, and find the path."

"All right," rejoins the other, in a tone of assumed resignation.
"Stayin' or goin's jest the same to me. For that matter I might like
the first way best.