swells of plain enacting a part of the wild life of which he had read, and for which he had longed. He was riding a swift horse straight toward the mystic mountains of the West, leaving behind him

ens. Hawks sailed like kites in the glorious, golden, hazy air, and on the firm sod the feet of his pony steadily drummed. Once a band of antelope crossed a swale, running in silence, jerkily, like a train of some singular automa

e mountains, though he knew he could not possibly come in sight of them so soon. He rode steadily till the sun was overhead, when he stopped to let the pony rest

Once he met a couple of cowboys who reined out and rode by, one on either side of him, to see what brands were on his

e from,

Canno

s the feed th

tty

at now, if it's

ynolds'

ead water of the So

es

e yet. So long," they s

lo

ng the boy whose horse plainly showed hard riding. "

he sky, but this particular cloud had not changed its sharp, clean-cut outline for an hour, and, as he looked, a veil of vapor suddenly drifted away from it, and Mose's heart leaped with exultation, as though a woman's hand had been laid on his sh

ps like herds of cattle. He began to look for a camping place, for he was very tired. For an hour he led his spent horse, still moving toward the far-off shining peak, which glowed

nd in flight where he should have won success and respect. He did not directly accuse himself; he had done as well as he could; he blamed "things," and said to himself, "it's my luck," by which he meant to express a profound feeling of dejection and weakness as of one in the grasp of in

rce, and his small fire sufficed only to warm him in minute sections, and hunger had thinned his blood. He was tired

e his solitary vigil the more impressive. The sleepy chirp of the crickets and the sound of his horse nipping the grass, calmly careless of the wolves, were the only aids to sleep; all else had the effect to keep his tense nerves vibrating. As the cold intensifi

uptial chamber, ethereal as an angel's wing, persistent as a glacial wall. As it broadened and bloomed, the boy threw off his depression like a garment. Briskly saddling his shivery but well-fed horse he set off, keeping more and

curling from the stovepipe, but no other sign of life could be detected. He rode directly up to

d armored, came out lazily bu

rning,"

epeated with instant heartiness.

n you tell me which-a-way is

right hyer. This is one o' his 'line camps.' The ranch hous

ab shack with three rooms. A slatternly woman was busy cooking breakfast in a little lean-to at the back of the larger room, a child was wailing in a crib, an

out," said the man who acted as ho

ight, and had to make down under a pi?on. I ha

ers and sow-belly in a gi

his skin, though his head was dizzy with hunger. The food was bacon, eggs, an

evaded them. They were lanky Missourians, types already familiar to him, and he did not care to make confida

said: "Oh, that's all right; we don't see enough people pass to charge,

s light. Away to the south a long low clou

n the Great Western; we

ll be wiped out o' 'Rickaree County just as it is bein' wiped out in Cheyenne and R

day," sai

," said Mose,

valley like a tortoise, but was much more comfortable than most ranch houses of the county. It was surrounded by long sheds and circular corrals of pine logs, and loo

at some repairs to a plow nodde

olds at home

rode over the hill to look at a sick col

d and hammered upon a piece of iron, chewing furiously meanwhile at his tobacco.

me out of the house and take a babe from the ground

of the young man's eyes and mumbl

ave a new and powerful interest t

toward the ridge, as if looking for som

bank, his pony, a vicious and powerful roan "grade," was on its haunches half the time, sliding, leaping, trotting. The rider, a smallish man, wit

or his was a kindly and sad face. His voice, as he spoke, was low and s

aid in Southern fashion

ed his note

id you leave him? In good h

heir usual value. After reading the letter he extended his hand. "I am very glad to mee

rding," inter

in, Mr. Harding; I reckon dinner is

the youth. "That's wh

"Very good, sir;

iled, small sitting room where a young girl

an is Mr. Mose Harding, who comes from my old friend Delmar. He is going

d magazines pinned upon them to break the monotony. The floor was littered also with toys, clothing, and tools, which the baby had pulled about, but the room wrought powerfully upon the boy's heart, giving him the first real touch of homesickness he had felt since leaving

The wings of the young eagle were weary, and here was safety and rest, he felt that intuitively, and whe

nds with him cordially. "I s'pose you're hungry as a wolf

ngs up a little," she said as she went out. Reynolds, as he took a seat, said: "Delmar writes that

some dramatic point. The girl came back into the room, and as she listened, her timidity grew less painful. The boy's troubles made a bond of sympathy between them,

f, and Reynolds said: "Mm! you have no certain know

d a dozen shots. I am afraid I hit; I a

le to look you up. Anyhow, I reckon you better stay with us till we see how the fuss ends. You ce

k to thank his benefactor, dinner was called. The girl perceived the tears in his eyes, and as they we

more often than to her parents. She was of the most gentle, and patient, and yielding type. Her beautiful lips

y wondrously. As they aro

you can go right into the mess. I'll turn my horse over to you; I'm getting mighty near