Joe told it honestly, adding nothing and holding nothing back. He looked at Emma, who stood white-faced and calm, her back against the wall; at Barbara, sitting dreamily with her chin in her hand; at Tad, fairly vibrating with excitement. The younger children, even Alfred who seldom sat still, seemed to have partaken of the solemnity of the moment and were listening intently. Joe ran a hand through his shaggy hair.
"Well, that's it. That's the story and it sounded to me like a straight one. I've told you everything I know."
"O'gon," Carlyle piped in his baby treble. "We go O'gon."
A moment's silence reigned.
Emma clasped her hands nervously in front of her, and then disengaged them with an effort. "Was Mr. Seeley sure that we can reach Laramie before winter closes in?"
"He said that we could do it with time to spare. We might even make Fort Bridger if we're lucky."
Again her hands came together and held, her knuckles white. "Did he say anything about the quarters we'll find there? I—I should not like to live in an Indian tent in winter."
Joe smiled. "You wouldn't have to. Laramie's an Army post, but we won't stay there. Just west of Laramie there's a trading post run by a man named Snedeker. I can get a job with him for the winter."
"We can't possibly carry enough of everything to see us through. Are there places along the way where we might buy new provisions?"
Joe said soberly, "Not too many. But we will be able to stock up if we have to."