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“He can write now, though,” informed Davy, loyally, remembering the scribbling on the wagon. “I’ve seen him.”

“Yes, Billy’s found out that he’s no worse off for having put in some time at school. He’ll be glad enough of all the school that he can get before he’s gone much farther. Have you got bedding, my boy?”

“N-no, I haven’t,” faltered Davy. “Maybe I can find some though.”

“We can rake up a quilt or two for you,” offered Mr. Majors. But Billy spoke quickly.

“No; we’ll fix him out with bedding. We’ve some extra quilts at the house, Mr. Majors. I’ll get them on our way out.”

“Can you go out with him, Billy, and tell him what to do? Number two herd is out six miles. You can find it. Stop at the fort and tell Mr. Russell to furnish him a mule.”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right. You take him and post him.” Mr. Majors extended his hand to Davy, who shook with him. “Do your duty, and a little more whenever you have the chance; don’t curse, don’t learn to drink, keep Sunday as much as you can, read the Bible, and look people in the face. Don’t do anything your mother wouldn’t want you to do. I hope to hear a good report of you. We need the right kind of men in the west, and the boy like you will make the man of to-morrow.”