CHAPTER XIII.
LOST!
“We must have some board-nails and some lead,” remarked Uncle Aleck, one fine morning, as the party were putting the finishing touches to the Whittier cabin. “Who will go down to the post and get them?”
“I”, “I”, “I”, shouted all three of the boys at once.
“Oh, you will all go, will you?” said he, with a smile. “Well, you can’t all go, for we can borrow only one horse, and it’s ten miles down there and ten miles back; and you will none of you care to walk, I am very sure.”
The boys looked at each other and laughed. Who should be the lucky one to take that delightful horseback ride down to the post, as Fort Riley was called, and get a glimpse of civilization?
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Sandy, after some good-natured discussion. “Let’s draw cuts to see who shall go. Here they are. You draw first, Charlie, you being the eldest man. Now, then, Oscar. Why, hooray! it’s my cut! I’ve drawn the longest, and so I am to go. Oh, it was 135 a fair and square deal, daddy,” he added, seeing his father look sharply at him.
The matter was settled, and next morning, bright and early, Sandy was fitted out with his commissions and the money to buy them with. Younkins had agreed to let him have his horse, saddle, and bridle. Work on the farm was now practically over until time for harvesting was come. So the other two boys accompanied Sandy over to the Younkins side of the river and saw him safely off down the river road leading to the post. A meal-sack in which to bring back his few purchases was snugly rolled up and tied to the crupper of his saddle, and feeling in his pocket for the hundredth time to make sure of the ten-dollar gold piece therein bestowed, Sandy trotted gayly down the road. The two other boys gazed enviously after him, and then went home, wondering, as they strolled along, how long Sandy would be away. He would be back by dark at the latest, for the days were now at about their longest, and the long summer day was just begun.