ing flapjacks, which Mary and Marjorie took turns at baking, their eyes watery ^from the smoke of the open fire, and their cheeks reddened by the wind.
"Wonder what's become o* Scotty,'* said Captain Ranger, as he knelt in the absent teamster's place at table and helped himself bountifully.
"He filled our water-buckets and was off like a shot," said Hal. "He ought to show up at mealtime. Ah, there he comes."
"Where Ve you been, Scotty?" asked the Captain. " Here's plenty of room. Kneel, and give an account of yourself."
"So you 're in love, eh, Scotty? and with that pretty widow in the next camp?"
The questioner was a tall, lanky teamster, answering to the appellation of Shorty.
"Never in love before," said Scotty, as he swallowed his coffee with a gulp.
An uproarious laugh ran around the table.
"Her hair is like the flower o' Scotia's broom in springtime, and the sheen o' her eyes is like Loch Achray!" exclaimed Scotty, as he passed his plate for a fresh relay of flapjacks. 1
"A love affair doesn't spoil his appetite," laughed Marjorie.
"I want you all to understand that no falling in love'll be allowed on this journey," said the Captain, dryly. " There'll be time enough for that kind o' nonsense after you get to Oregon and get settled."
"Love, like death, has all seasons for its own, sir," retorted Scotty, with a deferential bow.
"Women and war don't go together," replied his employer. "And you'll find this journey is a good deal like war before you 're done with it."
"Everything is fair in both love and war, sir."
"Excuse me," said a woman in black, with a low, mellow voice and blond complexion, who might have
