“Thank you, Ben. Good night.” And they went to sleep, happy over the well-earned compliment.
They had just finished breakfast next morning when the loud barking of Moze announced the arrival of Westbrook with his team. A moment later the big woodsman stood in the doorway and greeted them.
“Have some breakfast,” urged Ben, hospitably.
“No, thanks; I had my breakfast before I started. Thought I’d just stop a minute to see if I could do anything for you in town.”
“You can take the boys and myself and this luggage, if you’re traveling in light,” said Ben.
“I sure will; but, say, now, it’s too bad you fellows have to pull up stakes so sudden like,” he said, turning to the lads. “This is the prettiest time of the year, too. Guess you’ve had quite a time of it, though, haven’t you?”
“Yes, indeed,” replied Ed; “we’ve enjoyed ourselves very much.”
After Ben had insisted, Westbrook drank a cup of coffee. Then they proceeded to load the baggage into the same wagon that had conveyed it from the station almost eight months before.
“Different-looking boys from those that came out in the fall, eh, Ben?” laughed Westbrook, when everything was in and they were ready to climb aboard.
“Some browner,” said Ben.