That, like other
things, had passed out of his life forever.

Three times he rearranged the room in the vain hope of giving it an
added appearance of comfort, but the task was hopeless. Finally, he
sat down and lit his pipe, smiling at his almost childish desire that
his home should find favor in the eyes of the girl Buck was bringing
to see him.

Buck had told him very little. He had spoken of the visit, and hinted
at Joan's desire for advice. He had been very vague. But then that was
Buck's way in some things. It was not often that he had need to go
into reasons in his intercourse with his friend. Such a perfect
understanding had always existed between them that they were rarely
discoursive. He had told the Padre of the shooting, and explained the
apparent cause. He had also told him of the reception of the news in
the camp, and how a small section of the older inhabitants had adopted
an attitude of resentment against the innocent cause of it. He had
shown him that there was plainly no sympathy, or very little, for Joan
when the story was told. And to the elder man this was disquieting.
Buck had treated it with the contempt of youth, but the Padre had
detected in it a food for graver thought than he let the boy
understand.

It would be time enough to break up Buck's confidence should any
trouble develop. In the meantime he had understood that there was
something like real necessity for him to see this girl. If she needed
any help then it was plainly his duty to give it her. And, besides,
there was another reason. Buck desired this interview.

He smiled to himself as he thought of the turn events had taken with
Buck. He must have been blind indeed if he had not seen from the very
first the way things were going. The boy had fallen hopelessly in love
with the first girl with whom he had definitely been brought into
contact. And why not? Yes, he was rather anxious to see and talk with
this girl who had set the boy's heart on fire.

Yet it seemed strange. Buck had never been anything but a boy to him.
He had never really grown up. He was still the small, pathetic figure
he had first encountered on the trail-side. And now here he was
hopelessly, madly in love with a girl. He would never forget the fire
of jealousy that had lain behind his words when Buck had told him that
Ike had forcibly kissed her.

His thought lost its more sympathetic note, and he became grave. Love
had come into this youngster's life, and he w