Autumn came, and was passing away.  The waving sea of verdure had become brown, and the clumps of trees, dotted about like islands, stood denuded of their foliage.  At this season the cattle were missing one day, and were not to be found.  A party was formed to go in search of them, consisting of all the men from both homesteads, except Mr. Wharton, who remained to protect the women and children, in case of any unforeseen emergency.  Charley obtained his father’s permission to go with Uncle George; and Willie began to beg hard to go also.  When his mother told him he was too young to be trusted, he did not cry, because he knew it was an invariable rule that he was never to have anything he cried for; but he grasped her gown, and looked beseechingly in her face, and said,—­

“Oh, mother, do let me go with Charley, just this once!  Maybe we shall catch a prairie-dog.”

“No, darling,” she replied.  “You are not old enough to go so far.  When you are a bigger boy, you shall go after the cattle, and go a-hunting with father, too, if you like.”

“Oh, dear!” he exclaimed, impatiently, “when shall I be a bigger boy?  You never will let me go far enough to see the prairie-dogs hold a town-meeting!”

The large brown eyes looked up very imploringly.

Mr. Wharton smiled and said,—­

“Jenny, you do keep the little fellow tied pretty close to your apron-string.  Perhaps you had better let him go this time.”

Thus reinforced, the petted boy redoubled his importunities, and finally received permission to go, on condition that he would be very careful not to wander away from his brother.  Charley promised not to trust him out of his sight; and the men said, if they were detained till dark, they would be sure to put the boys in a safe path to return home before sunset.  Willie was equipped for the excursion, full of joyous anticipations of marvellous adventures and promises to return before sunset and tell his parents about everything he had seen.  His mother kissed him, as she drew the little cap over his brown locks, and repeated her injunctions over and over again.  He jumped down both steps of the piazza at once, eager to see whether Uncle George and Charley were ready.  His mother stood watching him, and he looked up to her with such a joyful smile on his broad, frank face, that she called to him,—­

“Come and kiss me again, Willie, before you go; and remember, dear, not to go out of sight of Uncle George and Charley.”

He leaped up the steps, gave her a hearty smack, and bounded away.

When the party started, she stood a little while gazing after them.  Her husband said,—­

“What a pet you make of that boy, Jenny.  And it must be confessed he is the brightest one of the lot.”

“And a good child, too,” she rejoined.  “He is so affectionate, and so willing to mind what is said to him!  But he is so active, and eager for adventures!  How the prairie-dogs do occupy his busy little brain!”