in all ways. As she sang,
the lonely soul of the plainsman was moved to an ecstasy which filled
his throat and made his eyes misty with tears. He thought of his days in
the gray prison, and of this girlish voice singing like an angel to
comfort him. She did not seem to be singing to him now. She sang as a
bird sings out of abounding health and happiness, and as she sang, the
mountains retreated into vast distances. The rush of the cattle on the
drive was fainter than the sigh of the wind, and the fluting of the Ute
lover was of another world. For the moment he felt the majesty and the
irrevocableness of human life.

He stood in a shadowed corner at the close of the service and watched
her come down the aisle. As she drew near his breath left him, and the
desire to lay his hand on her arm became so intense that his fingers
locked upon the back of his pew--but he let her pass. She glanced at him
casually, then turned to smile at some word of the preacher walking just
behind her. Her passing was like music, and the fragrance of her
garments was sweeter than any mountain flower. The grace of her walk,
the exquisite fairness of her skin subdued him, who acknowledged no
master and no mistress. She walked on out into the Sabbath sunshine and
he followed, only to see her turn up the sidewalk close to the shoulder
of the handsome young minister.

The lonely youth walked back to his hotel with manner so changed his
mountain companions would have marveled at it. A visit which had seemed
so simple on the Arickaree became each moment more complicated in
civilization. The refined young minister with the brown pointed beard,
so kindly and thoughtful and wholesome of manner, was a new sort of man
to such as Harold Excell. He feared no rivalry among the youth of the
village, but this scholar----

Jack met him at the hotel--faithful old Jack, whose freckled face
beamed, and whose spectacled eyes were dim with gladness. They shook
hands again and again, crying out confused phrases. "Old man, how are
you?" "I'm all right, how are you?" "You look it." "Where'd you find the
red whiskers?" "They came in a box." "Your mustache is a wonder."

Ultimately they took seats and looked at each other narrowly and
quietly. Then Harold said, "I'm Mr. Harding here."

Jack replied: "I understand. Your father knows, too. He wants to come up
and see you. I said I'd wire, shall I?"

"Of course--if he wants to see me--but I want to talk to you first. I