Publisher's Synopsis
That there wagon rolled up the trail and stopped in front of our cabin one morning jest after sun-up. We all come out to see who it was, because strangers ain't common on Bear Creek-and not very often welcome, neither. They was a long, hungry-looking old coot driving, and four or five growed boys sticking their heads out."Good mornin', folks," said the old coot, taking off his hat. "My name is Joshua Richardson."
