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Peter Lukins, the shoemaker had his place just three houses over, right there, and he was a miser, and they thought he hid his money sommers around here." "Well," said Mitch, under his breath, "no more cheating to the county. Law or no law, if we find it there, your pa will never know it. We've had one experience and that's enough."
"Oh, I'm only goin' to Denver," responded Pie. "Purty hot," suggested Red. "She shore is. Seen anybody yu knows?" Pie asked. "One or two Billy of th' Star Crescent an' Panhandle Lukins," answered Buck. "That so? Panhandle's goin' to punch for us next year. I'll hunt him up. I heard down south of Albuquerque that Thirsty Jones an' his brothers are lookin' for trouble," offered Pie. "Yah!
He bought two corner lots for himself in the city and two acres for Mrs. Lukins on the prairie half a mile from town. They got their deeds and went to the Kelsos to bid them good-by. "Is there anything I can do for you?" Samson asked. "Just give us a friendly thought now and then," said Kelso. "You can have my horse or my wallet or the strength of my two hands."
Fortunately, the spring's work was finished and there was not much to be done next day. Samson went to "Colonel" Lukins' cabin and arranged with him and his wife to come and stay with Sarah and made other preparations for the journey to the north.
He needs it, and I'm worn out. Your grandpa is comin' on Saturday, and they want you out there for a while, and it will do you good." Mitch looked a minute and said: "I'll miss you, but there's nothing to do here." Then when ma went out of the room, he said: "The jig's up at Salem. I dug the Peter Lukins' cellar out, and there's nothing there, and nothing at Salem. So it's us for Tom Sawyer."
"What a pretty pattern this is!" said Sarah with a sudden shift of front. Mrs. Lukins was not to be driven from the Elysian fields so easily and forthwith she told the story of her own courtship. A bountiful dinner of stewed venison and chicken pie and tea and frosted cake was served, all hands turning in to help with the table and the cleaning up.
Stout as a buffalo an' as to looks I'd call him, as ye might say, real copasetic." Mrs. Lukins expressed this opinion solemnly and with a slight cough. Its last word stood for nothing more than an indefinite depth of meaning. She added by way of drawing the curtain of history: "I'll bet he didn't dilly dally long when he made up his mind. I reckon he were plum owdacious."
While they were eating Sarah told of her long journey and their trials with fever and ague. "It's the worst part of going west but it really isn't very dangerous," said Mrs. Dr. Allen. "Nine scoops o' water in the holler o' the hand from a good spring for three mornin's before sunrise an' strong coffee with lemon juice will break the ager every time," said Mrs. Lukins.
"Whose house is this?" he asked in a moment. "It is the home of Mr. and Mrs. Peter Lukins. Their land near Chicago is now used for a cattle yard and slaughter-house and is paying them a good income. They moved here some time ago. He looks after the reservoir. Mrs. Lukins is a famous cook as you will see. We can stay here as long as we want to.
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