CHAPTER III.
A SAND-STORM.
n this proposal to retire thus early Mrs. Stevens saw nothing to excite her suspicions regarding Dick's real intentions.
He had worked for thirty-six hours almost incessantly; and it would not be strange if this unusual exertion, together with the weariness caused by excitement, had brought him to the verge of exhaustion.
His mother would have insisted upon bringing out one of the well-worn blankets, but that Dick was decidedly opposed to taking anything from the wagon which might in the slightest degree contribute to his father's comfort.
"I'm very well off on the bare ground, and with the wagon to shelter me from the dew I couldn't be better fixed. Our poor old man needs all we've got, mother; and you may be sure I won't lay awake thinking of the feather-beds we had at Willow Point, 'cause it's about as much as I can do to keep my eyes open."
"You are a dear good boy, and God will reward you. In addition to saving your father's life, for that is what you've done this day, you have lightened my burden until it would be wicked to repine."
"I'll risk your ever doing anything very wicked, mother; and if the time comes when it seems to you as though I don't do exactly as you want me to, just remember all you've said about my being a good boy, an' let it be a stand-off, will you?"