"Nobody won't never come to live in these plains," Brick declared,
"unless its trappers and characters like us. But we'll stay by you,
won't we, Bill Atkins?"

Atkins looked exceedingly gruff and shook his head as if he had his
doubts about it. "You'll have to be taken to the States," he
declared.

"But what would become of Brick?"

"Well, honey," said Brick, "you want to take your place with people
in the big world, don't you?"

"Oh, YES!," cried Lahoma, starting up and stretching her arm toward
the window. "In the big world--yes! That's the place for me--
that's where I want to live. But what will become of you?"

"Well," Brick answered slowly, "the rock pile, t'other side the
mountain is good enough for me. Your mother sleeps under it."

"Oh, Brick!" She caught his arm. "You wouldn't die if I went away,
would you?"

"Why, you see, honey, they wouldn't be nothing left to go on. I'd
just sort of stop, you know--but it wouldn't matter--out there in
the big world, people don't remember very long, and when you're
grown you wouldn't know there'd ever been a cove with a dugout in
it, and a window in the wall, and a Brick Willock to carry in the
wood for the fire."