Surely there would be no harm in carrying her on as she wished.
"All right," I said to her, but looking at him, "I'll take you on! You can count on me." And then to him, "I'll drive on until I find a good camping-place late this afternoon.

You'll have to find us the best way you can." He thanked me, and I gave him a list of the things I wanted.

Then he went on up the street ahead of us, walking calmly, and looking about him as any stranger might have done.

We stood for some time, waiting for the jam of teams to clear, and I gee-upped and whoa-hawed on along the street, until we came to a building on which was a big sign, "Post-Office." There was a queue of people waiting for their mail, extending out at the door, and far down the sidewalk.

In this string of emigrants stood our friend, the black-bearded man.