"Hold on till Peyton comes up," said the second voice, in a low tone;
"leave it to him."

"Better find out what they were like, at once," grumbled Harry.

"Wait, stand back," said Peyton's voice, joining the others; "I'LL ask
him."

Clarence looked wonderingly at the door. It opened on Mr. Peyton, dusty
and dismounted, with a strange, abstracted look in his face.

"How many wagons are in your train, Clarence?"

"Three, sir."

"Any marks on them?"

"Yes, sir," said Clarence, eagerly: "'Off to California' and 'Root, Hog,
or Die.'"

Mr. Peyton's eye seemed to leap up and hold Clarence's with a sudden,
strange significance, and then looked down.

"How many were you in all?" he continued.

"Five, and there was Mrs. Silsbee."

"No other woman?"