"Oh, oh—of course! Then say to-morrow—to-morrow evening at six, sharp."
Oscar accepted this invitation, and, picking up his package, hurried down the hill.
"Dinner at six," thought he as he quickened his pace almost to a run. "These English cling to their old-time customs wherever they go. I wouldn't delay the reading of these letters for the sake of all the dinners that were ever served up."
The wagon seemed to be a long way off; but Oscar reached it at last, and throwing himself upon his cot, tore open the package, and began sorting out its contents.
He found there several letters from his mother; others from Sam Hynes, Leon Parker, Captain Sterling, and Mr. Donahue.
The letters were long and full of news, and Oscar became so deeply interested in reading them that he did not know that Paddy O'Brian had twice called him to dinner.
"I don't want anything to eat," said he when Paddy had at last succeeded in attracting his attention by thumping the fore-chest with his stick. "I have something better on hand."
Oscar had not gone very far into his third letter before he felt as homesick as Leon Parker did when he found himself, friendless and alone, in the fort at Julesburg. A lump rose up in his throat, a mist gathered before his eyes, and, throwing down the letter, he sprang off his cot and rushed out of the wagon. It seemed to him that he would suffocate if he stayed in there a moment longer.
"Paddy," he exclaimed, "put the saddle on Little Gray!"
"And don't ye want any dinner at all at all?" asked the cook.