"I wouldn't care if we could keep warm," said Ollie. "I like living in it better than in any house I ever saw."
"I'm afraid it would get a little monotonous along in March," laughed Jack. "Though I think myself it's a pretty good place to live. Stationary houses begin to seem tame. I hope the trip won't spoil us all, and make vagabonds of us for the rest of our lives."
We were reluctant to leave this camp the next morning, but knew that we must be moving on. It was but a few miles to the town of Buffalo Gap, and we passed through it before noon.
"There are more varmints," cried Ollie, as we were driving through the town. They were in a cage in front of a store, and we stopped to see them.
"What are they?" one of us asked the man who seemed to own them.
"Bob-cats," he answered, promptly.
"Must be a Buffalo Gap name for wild-cats," said Jack, as we drove on, "because that's what they are."
Ollie had gone into a store to buy some cans of fruit, and when he came out he looked much bewildered.
"KEEP IT, SONNY; I HAVEN'T GOT ANY CHICKENS."