The Trail 



Twice means comes quickly. Three times means 

 come danger! &quot; 



In one corner of the cabin was a platform of 

 poles, covered with straw. I threw the sleeping-bag 

 on this, and was soon stretched out. Misgivings as 

 to my strength worried me before I closed my eyes. 

 Once on my back, I felt I could not rise; my chest 

 was sore; my cough deep and rasping. It seemed 

 I had scarcely closed my eyes when Jones s impatient 

 voice recalled me from sweet oblivion. 



&quot;Frank, Frank, it s daylight. Jim boys!&quot; he 

 called. 



I tumbled out in a gray, wan twilight. It was cold 

 enough to make the fire acceptable, but nothing like 

 the morning before on Buckskin. 



&quot; Come to the festal board,&quot; drawled Jim, almost 

 before I had my boots laced. 



&quot;Jones,&quot; said Frank, &quot;Jim an I ll ooze round 

 here to-day. There s lots to do, an we want to have 

 things hitched right before we strike for the Siwash. 

 We ve got to shoe Old Baldy, an if we can t get him 

 locoed, it ll take all of us to do it.&quot; 



The light was still gray when Jones led off with 

 Don, Wallace with Sounder and I with Moze. Jones 

 directed us to separate, follow the dry stream beds in 

 the ravines, and remember his instructions given the 

 night before. 



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