"My friend," said Frank, speaking rapidly, and keeping his gaze directed down the trail in the direction from which he had come, "will you do a favor for me?"
"Anything in reason," was the encouraging reply.
"Thank you," said Frank gratefully. "Do you see this rifle? It cost forty dollars in Boston. I will give it to you if you will let me hide in your wagon and ride with you until we reach one of the mail-stations. I have a little money in my possession, and am in danger of being robbed."
"Mercy preserve us!" exclaimed the emigrant's wife.
"You see," continued Frank, "I started from St. Joe, intending to go to Fort Laramie, but I have seen enough of this Western country, and now I want to go home."
"I don't blame you," said the emigrant. "We want to go home, too."
"Then you can imagine how I should feel if I were robbed and left stranded here on the plains. I assure you that if you will let me go with you and hide in your wagon until all danger is past——"
At this moment Frank discovered something moving rapidly along the trail, about half a mile away.
He looked closely at it, and saw that it was a horseman, who was urging his way forward at full speed.
"That's Eben," said he, in a husky voice. "He is the man who wants to rob me. Don't you believe a word he says to you. If he asks you about me, tell him that you haven't seen me."