em it wise."

Even this story, which one accustomed to border life confessed to be
exaggerated, fell far short of the sensational and blood-curdling tales
usually written, and was published exactly as the author wrote it.

During the summer of 1877 I paid a visit to our relatives in
Westchester, Pennsylvania. My husband had lost all his wealth before his
death, and I was obliged to rely upon my brother for support. To meet
a widespread demand, Will this summer wrote his autobiography. It was
published at Hartford, Connecticut, and I, anxious to do something
for myself, took the general agency of the book for the state of Ohio,
spending a part of the summer there in pushing its sale. But I soon
tired of a business life, and turning over the agency to other hands,
went from Cleveland to visit Will at his new home in North Platte, where
there were a number of other guests at the time.

Besides his cattle-ranch in the vicinity of North Platte, Will had
another ranch on the Dismal River, sixty-five miles north, touching the
Dakota line. One day he remarked to us:

"I'm sorry to leave you to your own resources for a few days, but I must
take a run up to my ranch on Dismal River."

Not since our early Kansas trip had I had an experience in camping out,
and in those days I was almost too young to appreciate it; but it had
left me with a keen desire to try it again.

"Let us all go with you, Will," I exclaimed. "We can camp out on the
road."

Our friends added their approval, and Will fell in with the suggestion
at once.

"There's no reason why you can't go if you wish to," said he. Will owned
numerous conveyances, and was able to provide ways and means to carry us
all comfortably. Lou and the two little girls, Arta and Orra, rode in
an open phaeton. There were covered carriages, surreys, and a variety of
turn-outs to transport the invited guests. Several prominent citizens of
North Platte were invited to join the party, and when our arrangements
were completed we numbered twenty-five.

Will took a caterer along, and made ample provisions for the inner man
and woman. We knew, from long experience, that a camping trip without an
abundance of food is rather a dreary affair.

All of us except Will were out for pleasure solely, and we found time to
enjoy ourselves even during the first day's ride of twenty-five miles.
As we looked around at the new and wild scenes while the tents were
pitched for the night, Will led the