Murry

Mrs. Murry grumbled to herself in an indistinct sort of voice all the way to Hampton Court.

We took our accustomed places around the fire, while Mr. Murry hobbled his cayuse and took an odd-looking bundle from his saddle.

When Mr. Murry pauses I can hear the soft spat, spat of the falling snow on the tent.

We are all happy except Mr. Murry; he has at last given up hopes, and gone.

He was given a detachment of fifteen men under Lieutenant Murry.