with the well-appointed new arrivals from the East.

"What are we waiting for, Bev?" I asked, as the street filled with men.

"Got to get another span of moolies for our baby-cart. Uncle Esmond
hadn't counted on the nurse and the cook going, you know, but he rigged
this littler wagon out in a twinkle."

"That's the family carriage, drawn by spirited steeds. Us children are
to ride in it, with Daniel Boone to help with the driving," Mat added.

Just then Esmond Clarenden appeared at the door.

"How soon do you start, Clarenden?" some one in the crowd inquired.

"Just as soon as I can get a pair of well-broken mules," he replied.
"I'm looking for the man who has them to sell quick. I'm in a hurry."

"What's your great rush?" a well-dressed stranger asked. "They tell me
things look squally out West."

"All the more reason for my being in a hurry then," Uncle Esmond
returned.

"They ain't but three men of you, is they? What do you want of more
mules?" put in an inquisitive idler of the trouble-loving class who
sooner or later turn arguments into bitter brawls.

"These three children and the cook in there have this wagon. They are
all fair drivers, if I can get the right mules," my uncle said.