"On the Oregon Trail," Grandpa assured him. "Suppose a mule dies and you
have to buy another? What if you have to stock up on flour?" For a
moment Grandpa lost himself in the dreamy introspectiveness of the very
old. "It's not like it was in the old days. A man didn't need anything
but his horse and rifle then, and if he didn't have the horse he could
always get one if he had a rifle. The west has grown up. She's shed her
three-cornered pants and put on her long britches. Don't try it unless
you have some money."
"Is there anything else?"
"Watch the company you'll find. You'll run into soldiers, but no
constables or marshals, and you will find cutthroats. Take it easy.
Don't go too fast or too slow. Use the sense God gave you, and you'll do
all right."
"That's it, huh?"
"I've told you everything that's to be told," Grandpa assured him. "If
you can think of anything else, I'll try to answer your questions."
"Can't figure another question," Joe admitted. "I should outfit right,
go to Independence, get on the Oregon Trail, and use common sense."
"That's the way."
"Thank you for your time. Thank you kindly."