"What's the matter with it?" inquired Bob, a trifle uncertainly.

"Oh, _it's_ all right. Only wait till Roaring Dick sees it. I'd like to
see his face."

"Look here, Tommy," said Bob with decision, "this isn't fair. I've never
been on drive before, and you know it. Now tell me what's wrong or I'll
wring your fool neck."

"You can't take all that stuff," Tommy explained, wiping his eyes. "Why,
if everybody had all that mess, how do you suppose it would be carried?"

"I've only got the barest necessities," objected Bob.

"Spread out your pile," Tommy commanded. "There. Take those. Now forget
the rest."

Bob surveyed the single change of underwear and the extra socks with
comical dismay. Next morning when he joined Welton he discovered that
individual carrying a tooth brush in his vest pocket and a pair of
woolen socks stuffed in his coat. These and a sweater were his only
baggage. Bob's "turkey," modest as it was, seemed to represent effete
luxury in comparison.

"How long will this take?" he asked.

"The drive? About three weeks," Welton told him. "You'd better stay and
see it. It isn't much of a drive compared with the old days; but in a
very few years there won't be any drives at all."