Pinkey, in love, was worse than useless. Escorting Miss Eyester was now his regular business, with dude wrangling reduced to a side issue. Therefore it had devolved upon Wallie to buy teepees, extra bedding, food, and the thousand and one things necessary to comfort when camping.
It all had been accomplished finally, and the day came when the caravan was drawn up beside the Prouty House ready to start toward the Yellowstone.
A delighted populace blocked the sidewalk while they awaited the appearance of Miss Gaskett's friend, Miss Mercy Lane, who had arrived on a night train according to arrangement.
The cavalcade, if not imposing, was at least arresting. No one could pass it yawning. There was no one who had come to see the party start who did not feel repaid for the effort.
First, there was Mr. Hicks, driving four horses and the "grub-wagon," and leading the procession. He handled the lines with an aplomb reminiscent of the coaching days of Reginald Vanderbilt, together with the noble bearing of the late Ben Hur tooling his chariot. Mr. Hicks dignified the "grub-wagon" to such an extent that it was a treat to look at him.
Second in place was Pinkey, driving the tent-and-bed-wagon, with Miss Eyester on the high spring-seat beside him. Behind Pinkey came "Red" McGonnigle, driving a surrey provided for those who should become fatigued with riding horseback. The vehicle, like the stage-coach, was a bargain, sold cheaply by the original owner because of the weakness of the springs, which permitted the body to hit the axle when any amount of weight was put in it. This was a discovery they made after purchase. Aunt Lizzie Philbrick was the only passenger, though it was anticipated that Miss Mercy Lane would prefer to drive also, since she had had no previous riding.
Behind the surrey was the riding party, even more startling than when they had first burst upon Wallie in their bead-work and curio-store trappings. Mr. Stott was wearing a pair of "chaps" spotted like a pinto, while Mr. Budlong in flame-coloured angora at a little distance looked as if his legs were afire.
Their ponies peered out shamefacedly through brilliant, penitentiary-made, horse-hair bridles, and old Mr. Penrose was the envy of everybody in a greasy, limp-brimmed Stetson he had bought from a freighter. Also he had acquired a pair of 22-inch, "eagle's bill" tapaderas. He looked like a mounted pirate, and, in his evil moments, after sleeping badly, he acted like one.
Everyone was in high spirits and eager to get started. Mr. Stott surreptitiously spurred his horse to make him cavort more spiritedly before the spectators, and the horse responded in such a manner that the rising young attorney was obliged to cling with both hands to the saddle-horn.
When he came back, slightly paler, Wallie said curtly: