"Wal, now I reckon you best unhook right h'yer for a day or two till we get a minute to look around and see where we're at." So, clucking to the tired horses the train entered upon its last half mile of a long journey.
Jake's wife, a somber and very reticent woman, with a slender figure and a girlish head, met them at the door of the cabin.

Her features were unusually small for a woman of her height, and, as she shook hands silently, Mose looked into her sad dark eyes and liked her very much.
She had no children; the two in which she had once taken a mother's joy slept in two little mounds on the hill just above the house.

She seemed glad of the coming of her sister-in-law, though she did not stop to say so, but returned to the house to hurry supper forward.
After the meal was eaten the brothers lit their pipes and sauntered out to the stables, where they sat down for a long talk.

Mose followed them silently and sat near to listen.
"Now, Dan'l," Jake began, "I'm mighty glad you've come and brought this yer young feller.

We need ye both bad! It's like this"-- he paused and looked around; "I don't want the wimern folks to hear," he explained.
"Times is goin' to be lively here, shore.