would credit you in a moment, for a little stage ride like that. Couldn't you write and ask them?"
"Couldn't you, Washington—seeing it's you that wants the ride? And what do you think you'll do, Washington, when you get to Hawkeye? Finish your invention for making window-glass opaque?"
"No, sir, I have given that up. I almost knew I could do it, but it was so tedious and troublesome I quit it."
"I was afraid of it, my boy. Then I suppose you'll finish your plan of coloring hen's eggs by feeding a peculiar diet to the hen?"
"No, sir. I believe I have found out the stuff that will do it, but it kills the hen; so I have dropped that for the present, though I can take it up again some day when I learn how to manage the mixture better."
"Well, what have you got on hand—anything?"
"Yes, sir, three or four things. I think they are all good and can all be done, but they are tiresome, and besides they require money. But as soon as the land is sold"
"Emily, were you about to say something?" said Hawkins.
"Yes, sir. If you are willing, I will go to St. Louis. That will make another mouth less to feed. Mrs. Buckner has always wanted me to come."
"But the money, child?"
"Why I think she would send it, if you would write her—and I know she would wait for her pay till"
"Come, Laura, let's hear from you, my girl."
Emily and Laura were about the same age—between seventeen and eighteen. Emily was fair and pretty, girlish and diffident—blue eyes and light hair. Laura had a proud bearing and a somewhat mature look; she had fine, clean-cut features, her complexion was pure white and contrasted vividly with her black hair and eyes; she was not what one calls pretty—she was beautiful. She said:
"I will go to St. Louis, too, sir. I will find a way to get there. I will make a way. And I will find a way to help
