do all the outside work. I'll be cook; you'll be rancher. That's
what we'll call you--rancher."

I unhitched the horses, tied them behind the wagon, and gave
them some oats and corn in the feed-box. The pony I fed in the
big tin pail near by. The grass beside the road was so dry, and
it was so windy, that we decided it was not safe to build a fire
outdoors, so Jack cooked pancakes over the oil-stove inside.
These with some cold meat he handed out to Ollie and me as we sat
on the wagon-tongue, while he sat on the dash-board. We were
half-way through dinner when we heard a peculiar whine, followed
by a low bark, in the wagon, and then Snoozer leaped out,
stretched himself, and began to wag his tail so fast that it
looked exactly like a whirling feather duster. We fed him on
pancakes, and he ate so many that if Jack had not fried some more
we'd have certainly gone hungry.

"I told you he was a true tramp," said Jack. "Just see his
appetite!"

After we had finished, and the horses had grazed about on the
dry grass some time, we started on. We hoped to reach a little
lake which we saw marked on the map, called Lake Lookout, for the
night camp; so we hurried along, it being a good distance ahead.
All the afternoon we were passing 'between either great fields
where the wheat had been cut, leaving the stubble, or beside long
stretches of prairie. There were a few houses, many of them built
of sod. Not much happened during the afternoon. Ollie followed
the example of Snoozer, and curled up on the bed and had a long
nap. We saw a few prairie-chickens, but did not try to shoot any