PREPARATIONS
The next few days were busy ones for Whitey and his friends. It was
vacation time, and as soon as Whitey had the "honest-to-goodness"
assurance that he was "really and truly" going out West, he lost no
time in communicating the news to all the boys. He found Tom Johnson
at breakfast; but after Tom had heard the news, he had no further
appetite, and went with Whitey over to the home of George and Bobby
Smith, and the four boys went out to talk over the matter. Whitey's
equipment was a matter for much consideration.
"Gee!" said Tom, "you'll need a revolver--Colt's forty-five is what all
the cowboys use--an' the sheriffs, too. An' a Winchester rifle."
"Yes," said George, "an' 'f I was you, I'd take a lot o' fishin'-tackle
and rods an' reels an' things. You bet there's fish out there in
Montana--I've heard the fish are so thick in some river out there that
you can walk in an' ketch 'em with your hands!"
"I guess you're thinking of the Columbia River salmon--that ain't in
Montana," said Whitey, who was up in geography.
"Well," said George, unconvinced, "it's right out there in the West,
some place--mebbe you could tramp over there some afternoon. I know _I_
would 'f _I_ was out there!"
"Well, I'll tell you what I'd do," chimed in Bobby, excitedly, "'f I
was you, the first thing I got would be a big felt hat an' some cowboy
clothes! If you don't they all call you a "tenderfoot," an' they'll
make you do a dance by shootin' at your feet! I've seen 'em do it in
the movies lots o' times." Bobby was aged six, but he had advanced
ideas and experience, too. "An' you're going to want a saddle an' a
lariat an' a good pair o' snow-shoes--it snows fierce out there in
Montana an' Alaska an' all those places--'tain't safe to go any place
without snow-shoes! A blizzard is liable to come up any old time!"
The wisdom of all this was readily admitted; and after a list had
been carefully prepared, the four boys went to a big sporting-goods
store and submitted it, and asked to see the various articles. The
clerk looked the list over and got out the various things it called
for, which included everything from a baseball--which Tom said "might
come in handy"--to snow-shoes. Each of the boys handled and carefully
inspected each article and approved it. Whitey had looked at some
woodman's hatchets, but Bobby suggested that Whitey could take a
tomahawk away from the first Indian he killed and thus save expense.
"How much would all that come to?" asked Whitey, a little
apprehensively.
The clerk figured it up. "One hundred and sixty-eight dollars and forty
cents," he said cheerfully.
A hurried audit of the finances of the party revealed the fact that
the cash capital on hand amounted to two thirty-six!
"Just send them up to the house," said Whitey, loftily, and he gave the
name and the address. One of the proprietors stood near and listened
smilingly to the whole transaction; and when the boys had gone, he went
to the telephone.
Mr. Sherwood, in his office, picked up the receiver, and a familiar
voice came over the wire: "Hello, Sherwood! This is Robertson. Your
boy was just in here with some friends and bought out the store! He's
evidently going out West--with a vengeance!"
"Is that so?" laughed Mr. Sherwood. "What did he buy?"
"I can tell you what he _didn't_ buy easier than what he _did_! The
bill amounts to one hundred and sixty-eight, forty. What do you want
me to do?--he said to send the stuff up to the house!" and Robertson
laughed the good-natured laugh of a man who appreciates boys.
"Great Jehosaphat!" said Mr. Sherwood. "What kind of a selection did he
make?"
"Well," answered Mr. Robertson, "it isn't altogether bad, but of
course, he's got a lot of things that he won't need at all. It's June,
and he has selected an elegant pair of snow-shoes!"
"My, my!" exclaimed Mr. Sherwood. "Can you beat it?"
"Yes," answered Mr. Robertson, "I think I can. He had expert advice
from the three youngsters who were with him and it was more or less a
consultation purchase. One of the kids assured him that it was the next
thing to suicide to go around Butte, Montana, without a compass! Said a
man might get into Butte and wander 'round and 'round in a circle and
never get anywhere, if he didn't have a compass! Ha, ha! I guess that
beats the snow-shoes, doesn't it?"
"I'll have to admit that it does!" laughed Mr. Sherwood. "Any other
freak stuff?"
"Well," laughed Mr. Robertson, "I wish you'd run over here and take a
look at it! Or, if you say so, I'll send it all up to the house and
you can return anything you don't want him to have. It is certainly
surprising how much those kids know about the West, at that. I suppose
they get it from the movies--the outfit wouldn't be bad for a man, but
I know you don't want that kid of yours to have some of the things.
There's a Colt forty-five and a 'scalping-knife', the boys called it, a
foot long, among other things."
"I'm not really surprised," laughed Mr. Sherwood. "The minute Alan
heard the news about the ranch, he declared war on Indians and
grizzlies! Don't bother to send the stuff up to the house--I'll bring
the boy in and buy some stuff before I go. Thanks for calling me up! I
need a few things, myself, but they are strictly in the line of peace."
That evening, after dinner, Mr. Sherwood said, good-naturedly, "Mr.
Robertson tells me that you made a few purchases to-day, Son?"
"Yes," answered Whitey, "but they haven't come. I've been looking for
them all afternoon--I guess something's the matter."
"Have you got the list of the things you ordered?" asked his father.
"I'd like to look at it--maybe I can make some suggestions--possibly
you didn't get enough?" and Mr. Sherwood repressed a smile.
"Oh, yes! I guess I got about everything I wanted. Tom and George and
Bobby were with me, and the things I didn't think of they did. It only
came to one hundred and sixty-eight dollars, and you know I've got more
than two hundred in the savings bank." And Whitey showed the list to
his father.
Mr. Sherwood examined it with a good deal of interest. "Well," he said,
"this shows that you have been thinking the matter over and getting
prepared--which is all right. But I don't believe I'd carry all these
things out there, if I were you. They can be bought there just as well,
and many of them are unnecessary. It's summer now, and I don't think
you'll need any snow-shoes just yet, and as for rifle and revolver, I'm
not sure that I ought to buy you anything in that line until you know
something more than you do about handling them. We'll see to that after
we get out there."
"Do you mean to say that there are stores--regular stores--out there
in Montana?" asked Whitey, in astonishment.
"Oh, yes," smiled Mr. Sherwood, "some very fine ones--you can buy about
anything there that you can here. And as for those 'cowboy clothes,' I
think a couple of good suits of corduroy would be better--the big felt
hat is all right--after you get used to it. I'll get you everything you
need, though I'd like to have you suggest things for me to get and I'll
tell you whether you should have them. It is well for a boy to study
out those things for himself, and then take advice of some one who
knows as to the things he really needs.
"On a man's first trip into the West, he almost always takes a lot of
stuff that is of no value to him, and might better be left at home.
But, there is such a thing as not taking enough, and we'll be careful
to avoid that."
Then he added, "And another thing, Son--you won't find that there is
as much difference between New York and Montana as you think. You
mustn't get the idea that people out there are altogether savages, and
that Indians and 'bad men' go around shooting up people every day.
Of course, there is a little of that sort of thing, even now; but I
believe there are more people murdered in New York City every year than
in all the states west of the Mississippi put together. I may be wrong,
but I think not."
Whitey looked much disappointed, and his father laughed as he saw his
rueful face. "You'll see plenty of adventure--don't worry about that!
But you'll find people a good deal the same as they are here."
"Don't the Indians put on war-paint and feathers and have a war-dance
and scalp the pale-faces--and things like that?" asked Whitey,
reluctant to give up all his cherished traditions.
"Well, not exactly," said Mr. Sherwood, smiling. "The sheriff won't let
'em. He just locks 'em up until they get sober, and then puts 'em to
work on the rock-pile."
This seemed to take a good deal of enchantment out of things, and Mr.
Sherwood added, "I am speaking, of course, of where we are going. There
are many places where the Indians have to be watched and reckoned
with; but you won't be very likely to get into those places."
Out on the front steps, later in the evening, Whitey and the boys held
a consultation, and the sad news about the gun and the revolver was
received with much apprehension and shaking of heads.
"Gee!" said Tom, "I'd certainly hate to be out West among those bears
an' panthers an' cowboys an' Indians without a gun!"
"We'll simply _haf'_ to get Whitey one--somehow!" said George who was
much concerned. "'Tain't _safe_ for a man out there 'thout he's heeled!
Mebbe," he continued, after some thought, "if Whitey ain't goin' till
next week we can manage it--_somehow_!"
Bobby, the youngest boy of the lot, was as much alarmed about Whitey's
safety as anybody, but he said nothing. However, he gave the matter
deep and even prayerful thought. On his knees, that night, he concluded
his prayers--"And, Lord, _please_ don't let Whitey go out West without
a revolver! You _know_ it ain't safe! Amen!"
And that was why Bobby's father never could find that little,
pearl-handled pistol that he kept in the automobile!
Many of the boys in the neighborhood dropped in, and by bedtime Whitey
was the most envied as well as the most popular boy on the block.
He had promised a bear or a panther-skin to every one of his pals,
allowing each of them to make his own selection--some preferred bear,
some panther, with a slight demand for buffalo. It was all the same to
Whitey.
There were requests for souvenir Indian scalps, but Whitey was doubtful
about supplying them. And they in return, had given him much sage
advice as to how he should conduct himself when he came in contact with
the desperate characters, both man and beast, that he must inevitably
encounter in the wilds of Montana. It was unanimously agreed that a
compass was necessary.
"This goin' around Butte without a compass, is takin' a chance," said
Tom, with a warning shake of his head. "'Most as bad as bein' without
a gun! If a man ain't got a compass," warned Tom, for the sixth time,
"an' he gets lost, he goes 'round and 'round in a circle and doesn't
get anywhere!"
It was agreed that this would be very bad in Butte!