combine to perform the last sad rites of burial for his body at death.
As, toward dark, I near Potter Station, where I expect accommodation for
the night, a storm comes howling from the west, and it soon resolves
into a race between me and the storm. With a good ridable road I could
win the race; but, being handicapped with an unridable trail, nearly
obscured beneath tall, rank grass, the storm overtakes me, and comes in
at Potter Station a winner by about three hundred lengths.

In the morning I start out in good season, and, nearing Sidney, the road
becomes better, and I sweep into that enterprising town at a becoming
pace. I conclude to remain at Sidney for dinner, and pass the remainder
of the forenoon visiting the neighboring fort.






CHAPTER IV.





FROM THE GREAT PLAINS TO THE ATLANTIC.

Through the courtesy of the commanding officer at Fort Sidney I am enabled
to resume my journey eastward under the grateful shade of a military
summer helmet in lieu of the semi-sombrero slouch that has lasted me
through from San Francisco. Certainly it is not without feelings of