Mr. George Ward was an old client and friend of Mr. Keith's, who had been long urging this removal.
"I declare I wish I lived in town for a few days now," he went on, "but we're three mile out on the prairie, as you know, Keith. I have my team here, though, and if you like to pile into the wagon, all of you, I'll take you home with me, as it is."
The hospitable invitation was declined with thanks.
"There are quite too many of us, Mr. Ward," Mrs. Keith said, smilingly, "and we want to get into a house of our own just as soon as possible."
"Ah yes, so your husband wrote me; and I've been looking round for you. But the best that's to be had will seem a poor place to you, Mrs. Keith, after what you've left behind in Lansdale."
"I suppose so, but of course we must expect to put up with many inconveniences and probably some hardships even, for the first few years," she answered, cheerfully.
"I'm afraid that's so, but I hope you'll find yourselves paid for it in the long run. Now shall I take you to the Union Hotel? You can't, of course, get into your own house to-night.
"Here, let me carry you, bub," picking up Cyril, "the soil's real sandy here and makes heavy walking."
"If, as I presume from your recommendation of it, it is your best house of entertainment," Mr. Keith said, in reply to the question.
"Yes, sir, there's only one other, and it's a very poor affair," returned Mr. Ward, leading the way.