"A piece up the Trail. I left there yesterday at midmornin'."
"Then we should make it in tomorrow?"
"I don't know," the rider said doubtfully. "You could if you was ridin' horses, but you'll have to make them mules step some with a wagon behind 'em."
"It's almost noon," Emma spoke up. "Why don't we lunch here and ask Mr.—"
"Gaystell, ma'am," the rider swept off his hat and bowed to Emma. "John Gaystell, and I'll be right proud to join you in a bit of lunch. I didn't expect to see any white folks this side of Kearney."
Joe stepped down, turned to help Emma, and stood aside as Tad and Barbara alighted. Joe caught the younger children in his arms and helped them down; they could descend without his help but this was faster. He was swinging Carlyle to the ground when he heard Emma say,
"My daughter, Barbara Tower, Mr. Gaystell."
"Pleased to know you, miss. Say, more wagons goin' to Oregon should carry freight like you! Dress up the country no end!"
Barbara blushed and Joe grinned. The men of Missouri were outspoken, but few of them were as candid as John Gaystell.
While Tad climbed back into the wagon and tossed wood to the ground, Joe unhitched the mules but left them in harness. He slipped their bridles and picketed the team where they could find good grazing. When he was finished, Tad had the fire started and Barbara and Emma were preparing lunch. John Gaystell slipped unobtrusively over to stand beside Joe, and startled him by lowering his voice to a whisper.