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Page 27
Carley felt the heat of blood in her face. "I don't know that it would have
made a difference. Only--I'm glad she didn't teach you. I'd rather no girl
could teach you what I couldn't."
"You think I'm a pretty good cook, then?" he asked.
"I've enjoyed this dinner more than any I've ever eaten."
"Thanks, Carley. That'll help a lot," he said, gayly, but his eyes shone
with earnest, glad light. "I hoped I'd surprise you. I've found out here
that I want to do things well. The West stirs something in a man. It must
be an unwritten law. You stand or fall by your own hands. Back East you
know meals are just occasions--to hurry through--to dress for--to meet
somebody--to eat because you have to eat. But out here they are different.
I don't know how. In the city, producers, merchants, waiters serve you for
money. The meal is a transaction. It has no significance. It is money that
keeps you from starvation. But in the West money doesn't mean much. You
must work to live."
Carley leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at him curiously and
admiringly. "Old fellow, you're a wonder. I can't tell you how proud I am
of you. That you could come West weak and sick, and fight your way to
health, and learn to be self-sufficient! It is a splendid achievement. It
amazes me. I don't grasp it. I want to think. Nevertheless I--"
"What?" he queried, as she hesitated.
"Oh, never mind now," she replied, hastily, averting her eyes.
The day was far spent when Carley returned to the Lodge--and in spite of the
discomfort of cold and sleet, and the bitter wind that beat in her face as
she struggled up the trail--it was a day never to be forgotten. Nothing had
been wanting in Glenn's attention or affection. He had been comrade, lover,
all she craved for. And but for his few singular words about work and
children there had been no serious talk. Only a play day in his canyon and
his cabin! Yet had she appeared at her best? Something vague and perplexing
knocked at the gate of her consciousness.
CHAPTER IV
Two warm sunny days in early May inclined Mr. Hutter to the opinion that
pleasant spring weather was at hand and that it would be a propitious time
to climb up on the desert to look after his sheep interests. Glenn, of
course, would accompany him.
"Carley and I will go too," asserted Flo.
"Reckon that'll be good," said Hutter, with approving nod.
His wife also agreed that it would be fine for Carley to see the beautiful
desert country round Sunset Peak. But Glenn looked dubious.
"Carley, it'll be rather hard," he said. "You're soft, and riding and lying
out will stove you up. You ought to break in gradually."
"I rode ten miles today," rejoined Carley. "And didn't mind it--much." This
was a little deviation from stern veracity.
"Shore Carley's well and strong," protested Flo. "She'll get sore, but that
won't kill her."
Glenn eyed Flo with rather penetrating glance. "I might drive Carley round
about in the car," he said.
"But you can't drive over those lava flats, or go round, either. We'd have
to send horses in some cases miles to meet you. It's horseback if you go at
all."
"Shore we'll go horseback," spoke up Flo. "Carley has got it all over that
Spencer girl who was here last summer."
"I think so, too. I am sure I hope so. Because you remember what the ride
to Long Valley did to Miss Spencer," rejoined Glenn.
"What?" inquired Carley.
"Bad cold, peeled nose, skinned shin, saddle sores. She was in bed two
days. She didn't show much pep the rest of her stay here, and she never got
on another horse."
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