starting in opposite directions we'll be all right."

But where was Ollie all this while? And who was Ollie,
anyhow? Ollie was Jack's little nephew, and he lived back East
somewhere--I don't remember where. The nearer we got ready to
start, the more firmly Jack became convinced that Ollie would
like to go along, so at last he sent for him to come, and he
arrived the night before our start. Ollie liked the idea of the
trip so much that he simply stood and looked at the wagon, the
guns, the pony, and the horses, and was speechless. At last he
managed to say:

"Uncle Jack, it'll be just like a picnic, won't it?"

The next morning we started as early as we could. But it was
not before people were up.

"Where be they going?" asked Grandpa Oldberry.

"Oh, Nebraska, and Wyoming, and the Black Hills, and any
crazy place they hear of," answered Squire Poinsett.

"They'll all be scalped by Injuns," said Grandpa Oldberry.
"Ain't the Injuns bad this fall?"

"So I was a-reading," returned the Squire. "And in the hills
I should be afeared of b'ar."

"Right," assented Grandpa. "B'ar and sim'lar varmints. And
more 'specially hossthieves and sich-like cutthroats. I