untutored face, the sun of this
heathen district is something sinful; and like enough she never heard
of collodion for cracked lips in an alkali country. And a veil--oh,
sacred spirits! that veil and its contents is now hatin' Carrizoso
flats and all the inarticulate earth till fare-ye-well! Wrapped up to
the topmast in a white veil,--or one of was-white,--gray travelling
gown, common-sense boots. Gloves--ah, yes. And hate--hate--why, can't
you feel the simmerin', boilin' hatred of that States girl just raisin'
the temperature of this land of Canaan? Hate us? Why, she'll be
poisonous. Ninety miles in the sun, at ninety in the shade. Water
once at the Mal Pais, and it alkali."

I reminded Dan Anderson that in view of his promise to absent himself
at the time of the arrival of the Socorro stage, he was not conducting
himself with the proper regard either to decorum or historical accuracy.

"I want to go," said Dan Anderson, "and I ought to go. I ought to go
climb that tree and leave a pink and lavender card of regrets for the
lady and her dad. I reckon I will go, too, if I can ever get this
faintness out of my legs. But somehow I can't get started. I'd look
well, tryin' to climb a tree with my legs this way, wouldn't I? Man,
haven't you any sympathy?"

So we sat on a log out in front of Uncle Jim Brothers's hotel, and
waited for the worst to happen.

"Don't you go away," said Dan Anderson. "I want you for my second.
You can go for the doctor. I ain't feelin' very well."

Now, there was no doctor in Heart's Desire, nor had there ever been, as
Dan Anderson knew. Neither did he look in need of any help whatsoever.
He made no foolish masculine attempt at personal adornment, but his
long figure, with good bony shoulders and a visible waist line, looked
well enough in the man's garb of blue shirt and belted trousers. A
rope of hair straggled from under his wide hat; for in Heart's Desire
wide hats were worn of right and not in affectation. He was a manly
man enough, in a place where weak men were rare. The one most vitally
concerned in all the population of Heart's Desire, he was now the one
least visibly affected. All the rest of the settlement, suddenly
smitten by the news that the stage was coming with Eastern Capital and
a live Woman, had hastened under cover in search of coats and neckties.
Dan Anderson sat out on the street just as he had been, and watched the
purple mysteries dropping on the moun