ld, sweet,
dry, exhilarating, it breathed of untainted vastness. Carley's memory
pictures of the Adirondacks faded into pastorals; her vaunted images
of European scenery changed to operetta settings. She had nothing with
which to compare this illimitable space.

"Oh!--America!" was her unconscious tribute.

Stanton and Flo had come on to places beside her. The young man laughed.
"Wal, now Miss Carley, you couldn't say more. When I was in camp
trainin' for service overseas I used to remember how this looked. An' it
seemed one of the things I was goin' to fight for. Reckon I didn't the
idea of the Germans havin' my Painted Desert. I didn't get across to
fight for it, but I shore was willin'."

"You see, Carley, this is our America," said Flo, softly.

Carley had never understood the meaning of the word. The immensity of
the West seemed flung at her. What her vision beheld, so far-reaching
and boundless, was only a dot on the map.

"Does any one live--out there?" she asked, with slow sweep of hand.

"A few white traders and some Indian tribes," replied Stanton. "But you
can ride all day an' next day an' never see a livin' soul."

What was the meaning of the gratification in his voice? Did Westerners
court loneliness? Carley wrenched her gaze from the desert void to look
at her companions. Stanton's eyes were narrowed; his expression had
changed; lean and hard and still, his face resembled bronze. The
careless humor was gone, as was the heated flush of his quarrel with
Flo. The girl, too, had subtly changed, had responded to an influence
that had subdued and softened her. She was mute; her eyes held a light,
comprehensive and all-embracing; she was beautiful then. For Carley,
quick to read emotion, caught a glimpse of a strong, steadfast soul that
spiritualized the brown freckled face.

Carley wheeled to gaze out and down into this incomprehensible abyss,
and on to the far up-flung heights, white and red and yellow, and so
on to the wonderful mystic haze of distance. The significance of Flo's
designation of miles could not be grasped by Carley. She could not
estimate distance. But she did not need that to realize her perceptions
were swallowed up by magnitude. Hitherto the power of her eyes had been
unknown. How splendid to see afar! She could see--yes--but what did she
see? Space first, annihilating space, dwarfing her preconceived images,
and then wondrous colors! What had she known of color? No wonder artists
fa