“Major Banion,” began Caleb Price, “we’ve come over to get some sort of understanding between your men and ours.  It looks like trouble.  I don’t want trouble.”

“Nor do I,” rejoined Banion.  “We started out for Oregon as friends.  It seems to me that should remain our purpose.  No little things should alter that.”

“Precisely.  But little things have altered it.  I don’t propose to pass on any quarrel between you and one of our people—­a man from your own town, your own regiment.  But that has now reached a point where it might mean open war between two parts of our train.  That would mean ruin.  That’s wrong.”

“Yes,” replied Banion, “surely it is.  You see, to avoid that, I was just ordering my people to pull out.  I doubt if we could go on together now.  I don’t want war with any friends.  I reckon we can take care of any enemies.  Will this please you?”

Caleb Price held out his hand.

“Major, I don’t know the truth of any of the things I’ve heard, and I think those are matters that may be settled later on.  But I am obliged to say that many of our people trust you and your leadership more than they do our own.  I don’t like to see you leave.”

“Well, then we won’t leave.  We’ll hold back and follow you.  Isn’t that fair?”

“It is more than fair, for you can go faster now than we can, like enough.  But will you promise me one thing, sir?”

“What is it?”

“If we get in trouble and send back for you, will you come?”

“Yes, we’ll come.  But pull on out now, at once.  My men want to travel.  We’ve got our meat slung on lines along the wagons to cure as we move.  We’ll wait till noon for you.”

“It is fair.”  Price turned to his associates.  “Ride back, Kelsey, and tell Wingate we all think we should break camp at once.

“You see,” he added to Banion, “he wouldn’t even ride over with us.  I regret this break between you and him.  Can’t it be mended?”

A sudden spasm passed across Will Banion’s browned face.

“It cannot,” said he, “at least not here and now.  But the women and children shall have no risk on that account.  If we can ever help, we’ll come.”

The two again shook hands, and the Wingate lieutenants rode away, so ratifying a formal division of the train.

“What do you make of all this, Hall?” asked sober-going Caleb Price at last.  “What’s the real trouble?  Is it about the girl?”

“Oh, yes; but maybe more.  You heard what Woodhull said.  Even if Banion denied it, it would be one man’s word against the other’s.  Well, it’s wide out here, and no law.”

“They’ll fight?”

“Will two roosters that has been breasted?”

CHAPTER XXIV

THE ROAD WEST

Came now once more the notes of the bugle in signal for the assembly.  Word passed down the scattered Wingate lines, “Catch up!  Catch up!”