tones.

"Where's your folks, old pard?" inquired Jerry. "Better be hurryin' up;
we've got ter be a-goin', as soon as I put this chaw er terbacy on that
Mexican feller's leg; nothin' like it to take the sore out, you know."

The mules were now harnessed to the wagons, and everything ready for a
start, when the Missourians put in an appearance. We received them right
gladly, and joyfully welcomed them to our party. We started in company;
but soon ascertained it would be impossible for them to keep up with us
on the road, their oxen travelled so much slower than our own teams. We
parted from them with reluctance; for all the indications thus far seemed
to convince old Jerry that the Indians would without doubt prove very
troublesome on the trip, and the larger the party the more safety,
always.

We saw no further signs of their presence until quite late in the
afternoon, when Jerry called my attention to a small, oblong pile of
stones, that stood in a conspicuous place a short distance from
the trail we were following.

"That's a Comanche sign," said Jerry.

"Pooh! it's nothing but a pile of stones," said Hal.

"That's true enuff," said Jerry; "but who put 'em there? Somebody did,
for sartin."

"Probably some Traveller like ourselves," replied Hal.