The day was cloudy but sultry. Collars wilted and little damp spots appeared between their shoulder 235blades if they ventured to lean against the backs of the seats.
Leaves were curling in the corn fields; the prairies were parched with the heat. Frank got out and examined several of the ears of corn just heading out in a field they passed.
He looked sober when he returned. “Forty-eight hours more like to-day will finish that field. It’s a trifle better on the bottom lands.”
Marian and Alice scanned the heavens. “That cloud bank off to the south looks hopeful,” said Marian after several minutes’ silence.
Whether it was the weather or their unusual exertions of the preceding day or the menace of the drouth, that weighed upon them, it would be hard to say, but their interest in the Old Mission and the Indian mound on the Cook place was languid. Perhaps Ernest had been right when he declared that they were more interesting to hear about than to see. “It looks just like other houses, only the walls are thicker and the stone chimneys go clear down to the ground outside!” Katy exclaimed, distinctly disappointed at the appearance of the one-time fort.
“Of course, it was just a schoolhouse. They used it for a fort because it was stronger than any of the other houses, and, being all of stone, the Indians couldn’t set it on fire so easy.”
The Indian mound looked as if somebody had 236made a nice symmetrical sand pile about twenty feet high out in the middle of the prairie and then grassed it over neatly.
“If we could cut into it after the fashion of a birthday cake,” said Captain Clarke, “you would find some very interesting things inside, I imagine, weapons and iron utensils. I should think Mr. Cook would take the trouble to explore it some day.”
“I guess he isn’t interested in anything unless he sees a dollar close by,” Ernest replied.
They had dinner at the one decently kept hotel in Garland, and scattered along the comfortable veranda afterwards to rest and cool off.