nd his wont, said, shyly, to
Margaret:

"Gee! It's something fierce not to be born a Christian and know all
that, ain't it?"

Margaret and Gardley walked a little way down the narrow path that led
out over the neck of rock less than a rod wide that connects the great
promontory with the mesa. The sun was setting in majesty over the
desert, and the scene was one of breathless beauty. One might fancy it
might look so to stand on the hills of God and look out over creation
when all things have been made new.

They stood for a while in silence. Then Margaret looked down at the
narrow path worn more than a foot deep in the solid rock by the ten
generations of feet that had been passing over it.

"Just think," she said, "of all the feet, little and big, that have
walked here in all the years, and of all the souls that have stood and
looked out over this wonderful sight! It must be that somehow in spite
of their darkness they have reached out to the God who made this, and
have found a way to His heart. They couldn't look at this and not feel
Him, could they? It seems to me that perhaps some of those poor
creatures who have stood here and reached up blindly after the Creator
of their souls have, perhaps, been as pleasing to Him as those who have
known about Him from childhood."

Gardley was used to her talking this way. He had not been in her Sunday
meetings for nothing. He understood and sympathized, and now his hand
reached softly for hers and held it tenderly. After a moment of silence
he said:

"I surely think if God could reach and find me in the desert of my life,
He must have found them. I sometimes think I was a greater heathen than
all these, because I knew and would not see."

Margaret nestled her hand in his and looked up joyfully into his face.
"I'm so glad you know Him now!" she murmured, happily.

They stood for some time looking out over the changing scene, till the
crimson faded into rose, the silver into gray; till the stars bloomed
out one by one, and down in the valley across the desert a light
twinkled faintly here and there from the camps of the Hopi shepherds.

They started home at daybreak the next morning, the whole company of
Indians standing on the rocks to send them royally on their way,
pressing simple, homely gifts upon them and begging them to return soon
again and tell the blessed story.

A wonderful ride they had back to Ganado, where Gardley left Margaret
for a short visit, promisin