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"But if there isn't any?" |
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"We'll find some," he said with determination. |
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Arlen and Hunwet had been gone less than an hour when the argument started. Surprisingly, its source was not the usual complainers of the wagon train, often led by the ornery Woolcotts. Instead, normally soft-spoken Daniel Flagg gathered a group of travelers into the center of the wagon cluster. "We shouldn't lose the day of progress," he insisted. "We must keep going toward the West and water." |
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"But we don't know if there's more water ahead than in the dry stream we left behind," Abby's father, Lucius, said. In Arlen's absence, he often assumed the role of deputy wagon master. Abby was concerned about him, for his wizened face looked pale and his stoop was more pronounced. He had once been spritely, reveling in the attention of many women during the years since his wife's death. His sense of adventure and desire for a better life had led the Wynne family west. Now he looked old and frail. |
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Lucy spoke up beside him. "Arlen will be back, and he'll bring water, you'll see." Her small, upturned nose had become sunburned at the tip despite a broad-brimmed bonnet much like Abby's. Even though she was older than Abby, she looked like a determined child. Her large eyes were deep, sparkling brown, as were Abby's, and Lucy wore her favorite day dressa blue flowered print with a lace-covered yoke, now faded from months on the trail. |
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