Down on the floor boards, I fixed a nice place for my dogs.
All through the night, the creaking wheels of our buggy moved on.
Several times I woke up. My father had wrapped a tarp around himself.
Reaching down, I could feel my dogs. They were warm and comfortable.
Early the next morning, we stopped for breakfast. While Papa tended to the team, I turned my dogs loose and let them stretch.
“We made good time last night,” Papa said. “If everything goes right, we’ll be home long before dark.”
Reaching Grandpa’s store in the middle of the afternoon, Papa said, “I’ll put the team in the barn and feed the stock while you unload the buggy.”
Coming back from the barn, he said, “In the morning, I’ll go over and tell Bill Lowery to come up and open the store.”
Looking around, he said, “It snowed more here than it did where we were hunting.”
Feeling big and important, I said, “I don’t like the looks of this weather. We’d better be scooting for home.”
Papa laughed. “Sure you’re not in a hurry to get home to show off the gold cup?” he asked.
A smile was my only answer. Two hundred yards this side of our home, the road made a turn around a low foothill shutting our house off from view.
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