"Yes, Dad."
Mr. Simpson grinned nervously, and Alec sensed that he too had given way to the general excitement. His father spoke again, "I know I can depend on you."
"Yes, you can."
"Pete and I are going as light as possible, with only a little food," Mr. Simpson said. "The important thing is to get the claims staked. Nor do I want your mother out there until there is a good house ready for her. I want it to seem like home when she comes. But we'll need one wagon and some tools as soon as possible after the land is ours. If we take Pete's, his father and mother can move into ours until we send for that too. Now, after this crowd gets out of here, your mother and the twins will be all right, and I won't be afraid to leave them alone. Think you can bring Pete's wagon up when I send for you?"
"Oh, yes. I can handle the team."
"Good. Of course I'll send someone to show you the way. Now—What in tarnation is that sister of yours up to?"
Hands clasped around and chin resting on her knees, Cindy was looking intently at a big and battle-scarred old cat that had strayed into the camp. With his tail curled around his paws, the cat stared back at the girl. Presently he rose, walked over to her, and began to rub himself against her legs. Cindy stroked him and continued to watch closely. Jed Simpson chuckled.
"What does she find so interesting about that old cat?" he asked.
Alec grinned. "I think she's looking at its eyes," he replied.
"Why look at a cat's eyes?" Mr. Simpson demanded.