“I can see you ain’t a ‘prairie dog.’ Going out West for a visit?” began the stranger.
“No. My brother and I intend to take up a homestead.”
“Hope you have plenty of money.”
“Why?”
“Because it takes a pile to get started.”
“How do you mean? The fees for filing an entry are only ten dollars for one hundred and sixty acres.”
“It’s the other things that count, farming tools, horses, men to help build your house and barns and to work your land.”
“What makes you think so?”
“I don’t think, I know. Ten years ago, I came out, full of making a fortune, just like you, and taking up a homestead. I had fifteen hundred dollars. Inside of ten months it was gone; then I lost my claim. The West ain’t no place for a poor man.”
“But you are still out here.”