we could. We made another box, some two feet long, a foot deep,
and fourteen inches wide, with a hinged cover, which we called
the "pantry," for our supply of food. This we stood in the wagon
with the satchel. Usually in the daytime after we started each of
these rode comfortably on the bed back of the seat. This bed was
a rather simple affair, made up of some bed-clothing and pillows
arranged on a thick layer of hay in the bottom of the wagon-box.
Our small two-wick oil-stove we put in front next to the
dash-board, a lantern we hung up on one of the bows, and a big
tin pail for the horses we suspended under the wagon.

"Since you're going to be cook," I said to Jack, "you tend to
getting the dishes together."

"They'll be few enough," he answered. "I don't like to wash
'em. Tin mostly, I guess; because tin won't break."

So he put a few knives and forks and spoons, tin plates and
cups, a frying-pan, a small copper kettle, and a few other
utensils in another box, which also found a home on the bed.
Other things which we did not forget were a small can of
kerosene; two half-gallon jugs, one for milk and one for water; a
basket for eggs; a nickel clock (we called it the chronometer);
and in the tool-box a hatchet, a monkey-wrench, screw-driver,
small saw, a piece of rope, one or two straps, and a few nails,
screws, rivets, and similar things which might come handy in case
of a wreck.

"Now for the armament and the life-boat," said Jack.