“Well, he went off gay and happy as a lark, and we have come home chirp and merry as grigs!” said Wynnette, as she tore off and threw down her straw hat and seated herself at the table.
“Oh, I hope he will have a pleasant journey and a good time altogether! He can’t fail to get all the evidence he wants, ’cause it’s right there, you know! And I give him a letter to Joe Mullins, at Wild Cats’, as one of the witnesses to the marriage, though he wasn’t asked to sign the register! How should he, when he couldn’t read? I hope he’ll have time to run out to Wild Cats’ to see Joe! Though, come to think of it, I don’t know as he’ll find anything there but dark shafts and empty shanties. The leads was running out, and the boys was talking of leaving when I came away. Ah! I hope he will find some of the poor, dear boys! I should love to hear from them direct, once more.”
“How far is Wild Cats’ from St. Sebastian, Mrs. Anglesea?” rather anxiously inquired Wynnette.
“Oh, only a step—le’s see, now; ’bout a hundred and seventy-seven miles, I think they said it was.”
“Is there a railroad?”
“A what? A railroad? Oh, Lord! Why, child, when I was out there, which was less than four years ago, there was not even a turnpike road within a hundred miles of it. There’s a trail, though!”
“What do you mean by a trail?”
“Well, I mean a mule track.”
“Then I do not think that Le can go there. It must be a long and tedious journey, and he will not have time.”
“Oh, yes he will! And opportunity also. There’ll be mule trains, you know. He can pack on one of them. He can rough it! You bet! He’s every inch a man, is Le Force!”