"What river is that? That's a great question for a boy your age to ask! Don't you know where we are? What have you studied geography for if you don't know what river that is?"
"Oh, I know!" shouted Ruth, "I know, Father! It's the Mississippi! This is Illinois, that State over there is Iowa, and that is the Mississippi that flows between!"
"Ah, good girl!" applauded her father. "Of course! The Mississippi—the great Father of Waters. And the boundary line "—he continued thoughtfully, speaking more to himself than the children,—"between the old East and the new West."
"The Mississippi at last—hurray!" shouted Joe.
"Huh, I knew it all the time," grunted Sam. "Ruth needn't think she's so smart. Golly, when I got kept in last winter 'cause I couldn't tell what States were bounded by the Mississippi I didn't think I'd be crossing it so soon!"
They spent the night at Rock Island, then the terminus of the Chicago and Rock Island Railroad, and the next day crossed the Mississippi at Davenport, on the first bridge built across the river, which had been completed but a few weeks before. They stayed there that night, then started on, and two days later drove into Iowa City, then the capital of the State.
As the two wagons progressed slowly through the bare, wide clayey streets, which were flanked on either side by one-story unpainted buildings, as if dumped unceremoniously into their present location with no view to permanency, they observed groups of men gathered together talking excitedly. Presently a troop of cavalry dashed through the streets, followed by a company of infantry.
"Soldiers!" ejaculated Lige. "Wonder what soldiers are doing out here?"
As they drew up before the bare, unpainted general store Mr. Peniman turned to the boys and told them to stay in the wagons.
This was most unusual, as the boys were always glad to get out at these stops, stretch their legs, buy candy and gum, and exchange greetings with the boys and dogs they generally found congregated about the door.