"Oh well," Tad remained cheerful, "they weren't very big anyhow."
They wandered back to the wagon. Emma, who had heard the shot, came
running expectantly toward them.
"Missed," Joe said, and he took refuge in Tad's alibi. "They weren't
very big anyhow."
"It's nothing," she said, and Joe thought he detected a catch in her
voice. "There'll be other opportunities. You come and have your suppers
now."
She had kept their plates warm near the dying fire, and she gave Tad
one. The youngster stood up to eat while Emma brought Joe's plate. He
looked down at it, potatoes, biscuits, butter, jerked beef that they had
bought in Independence, and a cup of coffee. They were his usual full
rations, and he said,
"Doggone, I just don't feel hungry. If you'll put this away, it'll be
all the lunch I want tomorrow."