When everything was ready, Pete mounted his roan pony and Jed swung up on Sunshine. After an argument, which Cindy won, about who was going to sit the saddle and hold the reins, Alec and Cindy rode double on Sparkle. The mules and horses had also worked hard, and they needed a rest.

They rode at a walk across the grasslands. Everywhere, in what only a short time ago had been such a lonely place, were sod houses and gardens. Not all the homesteads had men on them, but nearly all had grazing horses, mules, or oxen, and there were a few cattle. Then they mounted a hillock, looked down on Plains City, and halted in astonishment.

"Ooh!" squealed Cindy.

Alec said, "Gosh!"

"Beats all!" Jed Simpson exclaimed.

"Sure does!" Pete seconded.

Instead of a town or village, they looked down upon a city. True, for the most part it was a city of tents. But there were some wooden buildings, well-planned streets, streams of wagons going in and coming out, and more people than any of them had ever before seen in one place. The sounds were those of hammering, sawing, shouting, creaking, everything that could possibly be connected with a city in the making.

A little overwhelmed because they'd expected a baby and found a giant, they rode slowly into the city. A man on a running mule careened crazily among the wagons, and a man driving a four-horse span hitched to a heavy wagon spoke to him in terms that are never heard in polite company.

"Cover your ears, Cindy," Alec ordered.

"I didn't hear a thing," Cindy said sweetly.

Her eyes were big and growing bigger. A wagon piled high with lumber picked up at the railroad swerved to where some men were working frantically on a wooden building. Two of the workers, Cindy saw, were the carefree young men who had camped close to the Simpson wagon on the border and had taken little interest in anything except fun. They'd probably thought that getting land in Oklahoma was a huge joke too, and as a result they hadn't got any. Cindy supposed that most of the people who had no claims would either go back home or work for someone else.

Next to the building was a tent with "Poast Ofise" written on it in red paint. At least two hundred people who hoped to get mail stood in a long line outside it. Next was another tent with a sign, "J. C. Summers, Wholesale and Retail Grocer," and next to that a wooden building whose sign proclaimed that it belonged to Caldwell and Hunter, dry-goods merchants.

Everybody, including those who stood in various lines, for there was much pushing and shoving, seemed in a great hurry.

"What are they all doing?" Alec inquired.

"They are," his father said happily, "building Plains City." He called to a man standing beside a building, "Where's the livery stable?"

"Straight down!" The man waved his hand down the street.

"We'll leave our horses and walk around awhile," Mr. Simpson said. "It's worth seeing."

The livery stable, when they finally reached it, was merely a series of posts with ropes stretched between them. There were so many horses, mules, and ponies already tied to the ropes that there couldn't possibly be room for more. But just as they rode up, four horsemen rode away.

"Any room?" Mr. Simpson asked the lank, tobacco-chewing man in charge of the livery.

"Yup."

"How much?"

"Fifty cents a head."

"That include hay and water?"

"Yup."

"I looked from the top of a knoll," said Mr. Simpson. "I thought that town sites could be no more than three hundred and twenty acres. Plains City seems almost three times that."

"Plains City," the livery man said, "is igzactly three hun'ert an' twenty acres."

Mr. Simpson grinned. "Who do you think you're fooling?"

"Nobody," the livery man said. He waved a hand southward. "Down thar is South Plains City, an' that's igzactly three hun'ert and twenty acres too." In turn, the man waved his hand toward where East, West, and North Plains City were locating or would be located.

"That land should have been homesteaded," said Mr. Simpson.

"'Twas," the man said.

"Then how did you get it?"

"Most of them as staked was glad enough to sell," the man said. "City lots is wuth money. Them as wouldn't sell we reasoned with. They could sell at a fair price, or they could be tarred an' feathered an' rid' out on a rail."

"I see," said Mr. Simpson.

The man led their mounts away, and they set off on foot to view the wonders of Plains City. There was a big tent with "Plains City Hotel" written across it and a wooden frame with a canvas roof that was evidently Brown's Restaurant. There were all kinds of stores. A man sat on a wooden box behind another box bearing the sign, "J. C. Donnelly, Lawyer."

"Need any law work done?" he asked when Jed, Pete, and the youngsters passed.

"Need any law work done?" he asked

"Nope," said Mr. Simpson.

"I'm good at land titles."

"Nope," Mr. Simpson said again.

Another man stood behind a wooden counter upon which rested three walnut shells. "Triple your money," he chanted. "Pick the shell with the pea under it and triple your money." He lifted the center shell to reveal a green pea. "If you'd picked that one, friend, you'd have tripled your money."

"What's that?" Cindy asked.

"A game fools play," her father told her. "He holds the pea in his hand and cheats people."

"That isn't very nice!" Cindy exclaimed.

A wagon drawn by two small horses and piled high with prairie chickens, a wild game bird that is good to eat, lurched down the street. The driver called, "Fresh-shot prairie chickens for sale cheap!" Pete and Jed looked at the wagon with interest.

"Where'd you get them?" Mr. Simpson called.

"Shot 'em on the prairie, an' now I'm sellin' 'em. A body has to turn a penny somehow."

"It's something to think about," Pete remarked.

"It sure is," said Mr. Simpson. "If we run short of money, we can go hunting."

"I'd like that!" Alec declared.

Cindy shuddered. "I couldn't bear to kill them!"

"Aw," Alec scoffed. "That's just like a girl!"

They passed doctors', dentists', and more lawyers' offices. They saw a tent in which the Plains City Enterprise had already been printed for a week. They marveled at stores and shops, and after a while they became tired.

"Let's eat," Mr. Simpson suggested.

"Good idea," Pete seconded.

"Wonderful!" Cindy said.

They walked back to Brown's Restaurant, seated themselves on a rough, wooden bench at a long, wooden table, and a waiter in a clean white apron came.

"What'll it be, folks?"

"What do you have?" Mr. Simpson asked.

"Venison steak, potatoes, and coffee."

"That's what we'll have."

Cindy shivered suddenly. It was exciting to eat in a real restaurant, and venison steak would be a welcome change from what they'd been eating. Why should she feel so strangely uneasy?

"Do you feel anything?" she whispered to Alec.

"Hungry," Alec said.

"Oh! I don't mean that!"

"By gosh, Pete!" Their father sounded very happy. "We've come a long way in a short time! This afternoon we'll record. Tomorrow I'll bring Ann up."

"I'll bet," said Pete, "that it'll be wonderful to have your wife with you."

"I can hardly wait!"

Cindy, who still felt uneasy, turned suddenly to see three men rising from a table behind them. Two, who looked like rogues, she had never seen before. The third, unmistakably, was Tom LaMott. Cindy nudged Alec in the ribs.

"Look!"

"What?" Alec asked.

"The man with cat's eyes! And he heard every word we said!"

"What of it?"

"I don't like it!" Cindy exclaimed.

"Cindy! For heavens' sake! He has a right to be here!"

"I still don't like it!"

"Maybe you don't like your dinner, either," said Alec, "but here it is."

They did full justice to the venison steaks, potatoes with brown gravy, and mugs of hot coffee. Jed paid the bill, and they left.

"Now to record!" Jed said cheerfully. "Then we can go home!"

"Sure thing!" Pete agreed.

They made their way toward the American flag that rose over a small land office, and stopped in their tracks.

There had been many people waiting to get into the post office and some of the stores, but they were as nothing compared to the throng here. They were nearly all men, with here and there a woman or girl. A soldier appeared in the doorway, called a number, and a man left the crowd to go into the land office. Beside the doorway stood another soldier by a sign: "Get Your Numbers Here."

"What's it all about?" Jed asked the man standing next to him.

"You must get a number," the man said, "then wait your turn."

They went to the soldier, who gave Pete number 828 and Jed 829.

"Can we get in soon?" Pete asked.

"You must wait until your number's called," said the soldier.

"How long will it take?" Pete inquired.

The soldier said, "It's been averaging two weeks."

"Two weeks!" Pete exclaimed. "We might as well go back to our claims!"

"If your number's called sooner, and you aren't here, you have to start all over again."

"Oh, my gosh!"

All the happiness had gone out of the day, and sadness had entered in. While Cindy and Alec watched nervously, their father and Pete talked in low tones. When they finished, they called the youngsters to them.

"It'll mean two more weeks without your mother," Mr. Simpson said unhappily, "but there seems to be no way out of it. The claims must be recorded and the sooner the better. Can you two make out all right on the homestead?"

"Sure," Cindy said.

"We can," said Alec.

"Then go back and take the horses with you. No sense boarding them if we don't have to. We'll walk, and we'll be there as soon as possible."

Cindy looked around to discover one of the men who had been with Tom LaMott standing very near. Again, he must have overheard everything.