Jessie seated herself on the milking-stool by old Cleo’s side, while I leaned against the corral bars, watching her.
“You’re tired, aren’t you, Leslie?” she asked, glancing up at me, as under her nimble fingers, the streams of milk began to rattle noisily into the pail.
“Yes; I am, rather. I think I’m some disappointed too, maybe. What did Mr. Wilson say?”
“He said that my best plan—for it must go in my name, now—is to get to town to-morrow before Mr. Horton does, explain to the agent about father’s death—he must have heard of it, Mr. Wilson says, but he is not obliged to take official note of a thing that has not been reported to him, and that he has only heard of incidentally—and ask him to make out the deed to me, as the present head of the family. Mr. Wilson says that I must be there, ready to tell my story, the minute the office opens. He hopes that, in that way, we may frustrate Mr. Horton, who is likely, he says, to be one of the very first on hand to-morrow morning. After I have explained matters to the agent, he will be forced to wait the arrival of my witnesses, of course, before he can do anything. But Mr. Wilson thinks that anything that Mr. Horton may say, after the agent has seen me, and heard my story, will be likely to work in my favor, it will show so plainly what Mr. Horton is up to. Mr. Wilson says that I had better take a horse and start for town to-morrow, just as soon as it is light enough to see.”
“Twenty miles!” I said. “How long will it take you to ride it?” I knew how long it would take me, on Frank’s back, but Jessie is less wonted to the saddle than I.
“It will take me nearly four hours, I should think, shouldn’t you?” She stopped milking while she looked at me, anxiously awaiting my reply.
“Just about that, Jessie.”
“It would kill me to keep up such a gait as you and Frank seem to both take delight in,” she continued. “So I must be poking along for four hours doing the distance that you could cover in two. The Land Office opens at seven o’clock—there’s a rush of business just now, Mr. Wilson says—and I must start not later than half-past two.”
“Dear me, Jessie, I hate to have you start out alone in the night, that way!”