at.
She hated the need of thinking so much about him; and suddenly, with a
hot, bursting anger, she hated the man.

"You'll not look after me. I'll take care of myself," she said, and
she turned her back upon him. She heard him mutter under his breath and
slowly move away down the car. Then Bo slipped a hand in hers.

"Never mind, Nell," she whispered. "You know what old Sheriff Haines
said about Harve Riggs. 'A four-flush would-be gun-fighter! If he ever
strikes a real Western town he'll get run out of it.' I just wish my
red-faced cowboy had got on this train!"

Helen felt a rush of gladness that she had yielded to Bo's wild
importunities to take her West. The spirit which had made Bo
incorrigible at home probably would make her react happily to life out
in this free country. Yet Helen, with all her warmth and gratefulness,
had to laugh at her sister.

"Your red-faced cowboy! Why, Bo, you were scared stiff. And now you
claim him!"

"I certainly could love that fellow," replied Bo, dreamily.

"Child, you've been saying that about fellows for a long time. And
you've never looked twice at any of them yet."

"He was different.... Nell, I'll bet he comes to Pine."

"I hope he does. I wish he was on this train. I liked his looks, Bo."

"Well, Nell dear, he looked at ME first and last--so don't get your
hopes up.... Oh, the train's starting!... Good-by, Albu-ker--what's that
awful name?... Nell, let's eat dinner. I'm starved."

Then Helen forgot her troubles and the uncertain future, and what with
listening to Bo's chatter, and partaking again of the endless good
things to eat in the huge basket, and watching the noble mountains, she
drew once more into happy mood.

The valley of the Rio Grande opened to view, wide near at hand in a
great gray-green gap between the bare black mountains, narrow in the
distance, where the yellow river wound away, glistening under a hot
sun. Bo squealed in glee at sight of naked little Mexican children that
darted into adobe huts as the train clattered by, and she exclaimed her
pleasure in the Indians, and the mustangs, and particularly in a group
of cowboys riding into town on spirited horses. Helen saw all Bo pointed
out, but it was to the wonderful rolling valley that her gaze clung
longest, and to the dim purple distance that seemed to hold something
from her. She had never before experienced any feeling like that; she
had never seen a tenth so far. And the sight awoke somethin