THE PRAIRIE HOTEL.
"Knock him down with something," whispered Leon, in great excitement,
as he searched frantically about on the ground for some missile to
throw at the dog.
"Let's go out on the road," suggested Frank. "He'll leave if we start
toward him."
"Yes; but I don't want that man to see us, for I don't know who he is."
"Well, he'll certainly see us if we allow this miserable cur to stay
here and bark at us," returned Frank. "The first thing you know, his
master will be back here to see what is up, and we'll be---- I declare!
there he comes now."
Leon looked over the bushes and trembled in every limb when he saw the
owner of the dog approaching.
He stopped by the side of the road, picked up a formidable-looking
club, and after trying its strength by striking it on the ground, he
hurried toward the thicket in which the runaways were concealed.
"Sick 'em, Maje--sick 'em!" he shouted. "Take hold of 'em, you rascal!"
Thus encouraged, the dog bounded into the bushes, and in a moment more
would have seized Frank by the leg, had he not received a terrific
punch in the ribs from Leon's double-barrel.
That took all the fight out of him. With a howl of anguish, he ran back
to the road and took refuge behind his master, who halted very suddenly.
He looked first at the dog and then at the bushes, and finally he began
to back off toward his wagon.
It was evident that he did not think it safe to advance any nearer to
the thicket, but he seemed determined to find out what it was that had
taken refuge there, for, after he had retreated a short distance, he
stopped and began swinging his club around his head.
In a moment more it would have been sent crashing into the fence
corner, had not Frank, who could plainly see the motion, called out:
"What are you about there?"
"Good land o' Goshen!" exclaimed the man, lowering the threatening
bludgeon. "Who be you, and what did you crawl in there for?"
"Now you've done it," whispered Leon in great alarm. "That's Mr.
Jenkins--the farmer who supplies us with wood. I know his voice."
"I'll talk to him," whispered Frank, in reply. "You stay here, and when
you hear me whistle, come out and bring my gun with you."
As he said this, he placed his rifle in his cousin's hand, picked up
his valise, and walked out into the road.
The dog showed a disposition to be belligerent when he came in sight,
but a few words from his master, accompanied by a flourish of the club,
put a stop to his demonstrations.
"It's a pity that a fellow can't step aside to rest for a moment
without having a dog set on him!" exclaimed Frank. "Is that the way
you generally treat people in this country?"
"I declare to man, I didn't know it was a boy that was hid in them
bushes," said the farmer apologetically. "I reckoned mebbe it was some
kind of a varmint, 'cause Maje kicked up such a row. Goin' my way? Jump
in, and I'll give you a lift."
"I am obliged to you, but I would rather walk."
"You can ride just as well as not," urged the farmer. "I aint got no
load."
"Thank you! I don't care to ride," replied Frank, rather impatiently.
"I am in no hurry."
The man lingered as if he wanted to say something else, but finally
turned and went back to his wagon, followed by Maje, who looked over
his shoulder and growled savagely at Frank, by way of bidding him
good-night.
Presently the sound of wheels on the hard road told Frank that the
farmer's wagon was in motion.
He waited until the sound grew faint in the distance, and after looking
up and down the road to make sure that there was no one else coming,
uttered a low whistle.
In a few minutes Leon came up, and the two resumed their walk toward
Franklin. This was the first and last adventure that befell the boys
during their journey to the frontier.
They reached the town of Franklin in a little less than two hours, and
there they purchased tickets for Albany, at which place--so they were
told--they could procure through tickets to St. Louis.
The train arrived an hour later, and in five minutes more the runaways
were being carried rapidly toward the happy hunting-grounds of which
they had so often dreamed.
When they arrived at St. Louis, they boarded a steamer which carried
them up the Missouri River, and in due time they found themselves,
with their valises in their hands and their guns on their shoulders,
standing on the levee at St. Joseph, at which point they had decided to
fit out for the plains.
Had they enjoyed themselves during their trip? Certainly not. No
one could take pleasure in a railroad or steamboat ride under such
circumstances.
One strange thing we have to record here is that Frank was no longer
the leader.
Being a city boy, he knew more about the ways of the world than his
country cousin, and Leon had leaned upon and looked to him for advice;
but after they had cut loose from home and friends, and were surrounded
by strangers, Frank began to grow frightened, and lost a good deal of
his assurance. He gradually fell back into the second place, and Leon
stepped to the front and assumed command of the expedition. He had more
pluck and determination than his cousin, and now these qualities began
to show themselves.
The boys stopped on the levee, and gazed about them with the greatest
interest.
St. Joe did not look much like Eaton. It was a frontier town at the
time of which we write, and everything was new and strange to the
runaways.
Canvas-covered wagons, such as emigrants use, were constantly passing;
bearded men, in red shirts and high-top boots, were lounging about,
and now and then an Indian, wrapped up to the chin in his blanket,
would walk by with dignified step.
"Well, here we are," said Leon at length, "and I must confess that
things don't look just as I thought they would."
"No, they don't; and I wish to goodness that we were safe at home
again," said Frank, giving utterance to the thought that had passed
through his mind a score of times since he left Eaton. "I am afraid we
can't make a success of it."
"It is too late to talk that way," said his cousin. "You know that we
discussed the matter thoroughly before we started, and made up our
minds that we could face anything that came in our way."
"But I didn't know that frontiersmen were such rough fellows. Just look
at these men standing around. Their appearance is enough to frighten
one."
"If you are so easily frightened, what will you do when we get out to
the mountains?" asked Leon.
Frank made no audible reply, but to himself he said:
"I don't intend to go to the mountains. I am just as far from home
already as I want to be."
"Our first hard work must be to hunt up a hotel," continued Leon; "and
our next, to find some experienced man who is good-natured enough to
give us some advice."
The boys walked up the levee and turned into the first street that they
found, and which proved to be the principal thoroughfare.
As they strolled slowly along, their attention was frequently
attracted by such notices as these, which were posted in some of the
store-windows:
Parties fitted out for the plains.
HUNTERS', TRAPPERS', AND MINERS' SUPPLIES.
They lingered long in front of these windows, and Leon's enthusiasm
over the rifles, hunting-knives, and revolvers that were there
displayed was so contagious that Frank forgot his homesickness and
began to take a little more interest in things.
"Here's the place we're looking for!" exclaimed Leon at length.
As he spoke, he pointed to a sign that hung over the sidewalk.
Frank looked, and saw that it bore the words:
PRAIRIE HOTEL.
"Of course, all the plainsmen must stop here," continued Leon. "We'll
hang around for a day or two until we make the acquaintance of some of
them, and perhaps they will tell us all we want to know. Let's go in."
Frank followed his cousin through the door, and found himself in the
principal room of the hotel, which did duty as a parlor, office, and
bar.
Every chair and bench was occupied, and there was a crowd of men about
the counter who were talking loudly.
They were all rough-looking fellows, and Frank trembled when he saw
that some of them wore revolvers and knives strapped about their
waists.
These were mainly gold-hunters, who had just returned from the
mountains. They had become so accustomed to wearing their weapons while
they were in the mines that they did not think to take them off, even
though they were among civilized people.
The room was dingy and smoky, and reminded Frank of the sailors'
boarding-houses into which he had often glanced as he passed along the
wharves of Boston.
The boys' first impulse, after they had run their eyes about the
apartment and taken a good look at its occupants, was to open the door
and go out again; but, before they could act upon it, the proprietor of
the hotel, who had seen them enter, came briskly out from behind the
bar and approached them.
He was as roughly dressed as any of his guests, and looked so fierce
that, when he reached out his hand for Leon's valise, the boy
surrendered it at once.
"Can I do anything for you?" said he.
Leon did not think it would be safe to tell the man that he had
concluded to look further for lodgings, so he asked, in reply:
"Can we stay here for a day or two?"
"You're mighty right," was the answer. "You're not from the plains?"
"No, sir; but we're going there."
"Then this is just the place for you. Some of the boys"--here the
proprietor jerked his head toward the men standing before the bar--"are
getting ready to start, and you can go with them."
The host deposited Leon's baggage behind the bar, and when he came back
after Frank's gun and valise, the latter said:
"Can't you show us to our room, and take our luggage up there?"
"I can; but there's all sorts of fellows stop here, and you had better
let me take care of your things. I'll be responsible for them."
"But we would like to perform our ablutions," said Frank.
"Which?" exclaimed the host.
"We want a good wash," explained Leon.
"Oh! Why didn't you say so? There is the sink, and plenty of towels and
soap," said the man, nodding his head toward a corner of the room.
"Pitch in as soon as you please."
With this remark, the proprietor--as if he considered that he had done
his full duty toward his new guests--returned to his place behind the
bar.