n the little yard behind one of the two Sandtown saloons. He was
very untidy and his hand was not steady, but when he rose, unabashed,
to greet me, his eyes were as clear and warm as ever. When I had talked
with him for an hour and heard him laugh again, I wondered how it was
that when Nature had taken such pains with a man, from his hands to the
arch of his long foot, she had ever lost him in Sandtown. He joked about
Tip Smith's Bluff, and declared he was going down there just as soon
as the weather got cooler; he thought the Grand Canyon might be worth
while, too.

I was perfectly sure when I left him that he would never get beyond
the high plank fence and the comfortable shade of the cottonwood. And,
indeed, it was under that very tree that he died one summer morning.

Tip Smith still talks about going to New Mexico. He married
a slatternly, unthrifty country girl, has been much tied to a
perambulator, and has grown stooped and grey from irregular meals and
broken sleep. But the worst of his difficulties are now over, and he
has, as he says, come into easy water. When I was last in Sandtown I
walked home with him late one moonlight night, after he had balanced his
cash and shut up his store. We took the long way around and sat down on
the schoolhouse steps, and between us we quite revived the romance of
the lone red rock and the extinct people. Tip insists that he still
means to go down there, but he thinks now he will wait until his boy
Bert is old enough to go with him. Bert has been let into the story, and
thinks of nothing but the Enchanted Bluff.

The Bohemian Girl

The transcontinental express swung along the windings of the Sand River
Valley, and in the rear seat of the observation car a young man sat
greatly at his ease, not in the least discomfited by the fierce sunlight
which beat in upon his brown face and neck and strong back. There was
a look of relaxation and of great passivity about his broad shoulders,
which seemed almost too heavy until he stood up and squared them. He
wore a pale flannel shirt and a blue silk necktie with loose ends. His
trousers were wide and belted at the waist, and his short sack coat hung
open. His heavy shoes had seen good service. His reddish-brown hair,
like his clothes, had a foreign cut. He had deep-set, dark blue eyes
under heavy reddish eyebrows. His face was kept clean only by close
shaving, and even the sharpest razor left a glint of yellow in the
smooth b