The very day that had witnessed the departure of John and Muriel with their helpless burden and Dopey, who was grumbling constantly at the unwonted hardships he was undergoing, a new party came to the shack. The ashes were scarcely cold on the rude hearth when Bennie and Loney came climbing painfully to the door. Loney was nearly dead from the fatigue and half-sobbed, as he said:
“Oh, Bennie! let us rest a little. That was an awful climb coming that way! It would have been easier to come right over the biggest mountain all at once. Can you see the rest?”
“No,” said Bennie, cheerfully, “how could I see them when they must be back of the bend in the trail? They are coming, all right.”
“Do you think they could get lost on the way?” asked the child, fearfully.
“No; now don’t you worry over them. That lady, the Angel, as they call her here, knows every inch of the ground in this place. She told us how to come, and if she is behind it is because she is helping Mr. Goldberg with his tent and things.”
Bennie here lifted his own burden again, to see if he could not have carried a few pounds’ weight, to relieve the older man.
“It is too bad we had to sell Jake to Shoshone. He was such a help,” sighed the boy, regretfully.
“Yes, it was too bad, as you say, but we could not feed him, and a horse dies if he is not fed regularly.”
“Isn’t she a nice lady to come with us, Bennie?”
“She is that,” said Bennie, with convincing emphasis. “She told Mr. Goldberg that she knew every foot of the way and all the mountains, like you know the streets in the city. She can show him just where his claim is located, because he showed her the paper that the dead man had given him in New York. It is like magic to me. However anyone ever knows how to cross the road in this place, I don’t see. Ah, if we could only get a trace of Dora!”