on their ground by breakin' camp agin to-night. And you don't know
that it ain't US they're watchin'. You see, if we hadn't turned off the
straight road when we got that first scare from these yer lost children,
we might hev gone on and walked plump into some cursed trap of those
devils. To my mind, we're just in nigger luck, and with a good watch and
my patrol we're all right to be fixed where we be till daylight."

Mr. Peyton presently turned away, taking Clarence with him. "As we'll
be up early and on the track of your train to-morrow, my boy, you had
better turn in now. I've put you up in my wagon, and as I expect to be
in the saddle most of the night, I reckon I won't trouble you much." He
led the way to a second wagon--drawn up beside the one where Susy and
Mrs. Peyton had retired--which Clarence was surprised to find fitted
with a writing table and desk, a chair, and even a bookshelf containing
some volumes. A long locker, fitted like a lounge, had been made up as
a couch for him, with the unwonted luxury of clean white sheets and
pillow-cases. A soft matting covered the floor of the heavy wagon bed,
which, Mr. Peyton explained, was hung on centre springs to prevent
jarring. The sides and roof of the vehicle were of lightly paneled wood,
instead of the usual hooked canvas frame of the ordinary emigrant wagon,
and fitted with a glazed door and movable window for light and air.
Clarence wondered why the big, powerful man, who seemed at home on
horseback, should ever care to sit in this office like a merchant or
a lawyer; and if this train sold things to the other trains, or took
goods, like the peddlers, to towns on the route; but there seemed to be
nothing to sell, and the other wagons were filled with only the goods
required by the party. He would have liked to ask Mr. Peyton who HE was,
and have questioned HIM as freely as he himself had been questioned. But
as the average adult man never takes into consideration the injustice
of denying to the natural and even necessary curiosity of childhood