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"Jeb, Jeb! Come along er we-all'll get taken along the trip!" cried Sary, excitedly, trying to force Jeb ahead of her as she stumbled out of the Pullman after Mr. Brewster.
"G'wan, you're foolin'," said Finn, the other lumberjack, a quiet, steady, Wisconsin man. "There's my dawgs and sled," Daylight answered. "That'll make two teams and halve the loads though we-all'll have to travel easy for a spell, for them dawgs is sure tired." The three men were overjoyed, but still a trifle incredulous. "Now look here," Joe Hines blurted out, "none of your foolin, Daylight.
With due decorum and self-importance he and Henry, the groom, led the horses from the stable, Dawson calling over his shoulder: "You'd better come on with your Harabs, I can't be waitin' with my lessons." "We-all'll come 'long when we's bid," was Jess' cryptic retort. Dawson scorned to reply, but mounted on his big dapple-gray horse, Duke, body bent forward and elbows out, creaked away.
"You'll have to take the other team, Joe, and pull up the Stewart till you find them Indians. Then you come back with a load of meat. You'll get here long before Henry can make it from Sixty Mile, and while you're gone there'll only be Daylight and me to feed, and we'll feed good and small." "And in the morning we-all'll pull for the cache and pan snow to find what grub we've got."
"We ain't lookin' fer no argyment with Bill ner the Shuriff, so we-all'll mosey back an' tell others we meet. Howsomever, you-all won't find it so easy to git rid of curious folks when that miner-gang gits ha'r. Ah happen to know who and how many are plannin' to come." With that farewell, Hank turned his horse's head and led the way down the trail, slowly followed by the unwilling miner. "Oh, Mr.
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