yes, sir!--Curly, ye divvil, what do ye mean by puttin' me friend on such
a brute, him the first day in the land? And, Ned, how are ye goin' to
like it here, me boy?"

Franklin wiped his forehead as he replied to Battersleigh's running fire
of salutations.

"Well, Battersleigh," he said, "I must say I've been pretty busy ever
since I got here, and so far as I can tell at this date, I'm much
disposed to think this is a strange and rather rapid sort of country
you've got out here."

"Best d----n pilgrim ever hit this rodeo!" repeated Curly, with
conviction.

"Shut up, Curly, ye divvil!" said Battersleigh. "Come into the house,
the both of you. It's but a poor house, but ye're welcome.--An' welcome
ye are, too, Ned, me boy, to the New World."




CHAPTER VIII

THE BEGINNING

Franklin's foot took hold upon the soil of the new land. His soul
reached out and laid hold upon the sky, the harsh flowers, the rasping
wind. He gave, and he drank in. Thus grew the people of the West.