always make his home with us, as she
never could reward him sufficiently for what he had done for her darling
boy, as she called me. Harrington concluded to remain with us through the
summer and farm mother's land. But alas! the uncertainty of life. The
coming of death when least expected was strikingly illustrated in his
case. During the latter part of April he went to a nursery for some
trees, and while coming home late at night he caught a severe cold and
was taken seriously sick, with lung fever. Mother did everything in her
power for him. She could not have done more had he been her own son, but
notwithstanding her motherly care and attention, and the skill of a
physician from Leavenworth, he rapidly grew worse. It seemed hard,
indeed, to think that a great strong man like Harrington, who had braved
the storms, and endured the other hardships of the plains all winter
long, should, during the warm and beautiful days of spring, when
surrounded by friends and the comforts of a good home, be fatally
stricken down. But such was his fate. He died one week from the day on
which he was taken sick. We all mourned his loss as we would that of a
loved son or brother, as he was one of the truest, bravest, and best of
friends. Amid sorrow and tears we laid him away to rest in a picturesque
spot on Pilot Knob. His death cast a gloom over our household, and it was
a long time before it was entirely dispelled. I felt very lonely without
Harrington, and I soon wished for a change of scene again.

CHAPTER VIII.

ADVENTURES ON THE OVERLAND ROAD.

As the warm days of summer approached I longed for the cool air of the
mountains; and to the mountains I determined to go. After engaging a man
to take care of the farm, I proceeded to Leavenworth and there met my old
wagon-master and friend, Lewis Simpson, who was fitting out a train at
Atchison and loading it with supplies for the Overland Stage Company, of
which Mr. Russell, my old employer, was one of the proprietors. Simpson
was going with this train to Fort Laramie and points further west.

"Come along with me, Billy," said he, "I'll give you a good lay-out. I
want you with me."

"I don't know that I would like to go as far west as that again,"
replied I, "but I do want to ride the pony express once more; there's
some life in that."

"Yes, that's so; but it will soon shake the life out of you," said he.
"However, if that's what you've got your mind set on, you had better