So the two prepared for their trip. Ernest, with Luke’s help, purchased an outfit, and on the morning of the third day the two started out together, neither having a very definite idea where they were going except that their course was westward.
Luke knew very little of the States and Territories that lay between Oak Forks and the Pacific Coast. Ernest, whose education was decidedly superior to his companion’s, was able to give him some information. So they plodded on, enjoying the unconventional life and the scenery on the way.
They were in no hurry. They stopped to hunt and fish, and when the weather was unfavorable they stayed at some wayside cabin. When the nights were fine they camped out under the open canopy of heaven.
Part of their way led through woods and over prairies, but here and there they came to a village. There was little occasion to spend money, but they were compelled to use some.
One day, some weeks from the time when they started, Luke turned to Ernest with a sober face.
“Ernest,” he said, “I think you’ll have to leave me at the next poorhouse.”
“Why, Luke?”
“Because my money is nearly all gone. I started with fifteen dollars. Now I have but one.”
“But I have plenty left.”
“That doesn’t help me.”