her crude. And
perhaps their fathers were not in all cases so wise as they thought
themselves. The boys, however, cherished the idea that absolutely
everything they should require in Kansas must be carried from
Illinois. "Why," said the practical Mr. Howell, "if we cannot buy
ploughs, cattle, and seed, cheaper in Missouri than we can here, we
can at least save the labor and cost of transportation. We don't want
to haul a year's provisions, either. We expect to raise something to
eat, don't we?"

Charlie, to whom this remonstrance was addressed, replied, "Well, of
course we can raise some garden truck, and I suppose we can buy bacon
and flour cheaper in Missouri than here."

"Then there's the game," interrupted Oscar and Sandy, both in one
breath. "Governor Robinson's book says that the country is swarming
with game," added Sandy, excitedly.

The boys had devoured a little book by Mr. Robinson, the free-State
Governor of Kansas, in which the richness of the Promised Land was
glowingly set forth.

"Much time we shall have to shoot buffaloes and antelope when we are
breaking up the sod and planting corn," Mr. Howell answered with a
shade of sarcasm in his voice.

"And we may have to fire at bigger game than either of those," added
Mr. Bryant, grimly.

"Border Ruffians?" asked Sandy, with a feeble attempt at a grin. His
mother shuddered and hastily went out of the room. The Kansas scheme
seemed no longer pleasant to her, when she read the dreadful stories
of violence and bloodshed with which some of the Western newspapers
were teeming. But it was settled that most of the tools needed for
farming could be bought better in Missouri than in Illinois; the long
haul would be saved, and the horses with which they were to start
could be exchanged for oxen to good advantage when they reached "the
river." They had already adopted the common phrase, "the river," for
the Missouri River, then generally used by people emigrating
westward.

"But perhaps the Missourians will not sell you anything when they know
that you are free-State men," suggested Mrs. Bryant, timidly, for this
was a family council.

"Oh, well," answered Mr. Howell, sturdily, "I'll risk that. I never
saw a man yet with anything to sell who wouldn't sell it when the
money was shaken in his face. The newspapers paint those border men
pretty black, I know; but if they stop to ask a man's politics before
they make a bargain with him, they must be queer cattle.