"No, Indians do not walk the streets of Cresco," said Mrs. Martin.
"But finish your suppers, children. Others are waiting to use the
table and we must not keep them too long."

There were many travelers going West--not all as far as the
Curlytops though--and as there was not room in the dining-car for all
of them to sit down at once they had to take turns. That is why the
waiter made one, two, and sometimes three calls for each meal, as he
went through the different coaches.

Supper over, the Martins went back to their place in the coach in
which they had ridden all day. They would soon go into the beds, or
berths, as they are called, to sleep all night. In the morning they
would be several hundred miles nearer Uncle Frank's ranch.

The electric lights were turned on, and then, for a while, Jan, Ted
and the others sat and talked.

They talked about the fun they had had when at Cherry Farm, of the
good times camping with grandpa and how they were snowed in, when
they wondered what had become of the strange lame boy who had called
at Mr. Martin's store one day.

"I wish Hal Chester could come out West with us" said Teddy, as the
porter came to tell them he would soon make up their beds. "He'd like
to hunt Indians with me."

Hal was a boy who had been cured of lameness at a Home for Crippled
Children, not far from Cherry Farm.