Mr。McLean’shourswerealreadyvariousandsuccessful。Evenatthewolf-dance，beforehehadweariedofitsmonotonousdrummingandpageant，hisrovingeyehadresteduponagirlwhoseeyeshecaughtrestinguponhim。Alook，anapproach，aword，andeachwassooncontentwiththeother。Then，whenherdutiescalledhertothepostfromhimandthestream’sborder，withapromisefornextdayhesoughtthehotelandfoundthethreegamblersanxioustomakehisacquaintance；forwhenacow-puncherhashispaymanypeoplewilltakeaninterestinhim。ThethreegamblersdidnotknowthatMr。McLeancouldplaycards。Heleftthemlateintheeveningfatwiththeirmoney，andsoughtthetepeesoftheArapahoes。TheylivedacrosstheroadfromtheShoshones，andamongtheirtentstheboyremaineduntilmorning。Hewashereinchurchnow，keepinghispromisetoseethebishopwiththegirlofyesterday；andwhilehegravelylookedatthebishop，MissSabinaStoneallowedhisarmtoencircleherwaist。Nosoldierhadachievedthisyet，butLinwasthefirstcow-punchershehadseen，andhehadgivenherthehandkerchieffromroundhisneck。
Thequietairblewinthroughthewindowsanddoor，thepure，lightbreathfromthemountains；only，passingovertheirfoot-hillsithadcaughtandcarriedthecleararomaofthesage-brush。Thisitbroughtintochurch，andwiththisseemedalsotofloatthepeaceandgreatsilenceoftheplains。Thelittlemelodeoninthecorner，playedbyoneoftheladiesatthepost，hadfinishedaccompanyingthehymn，andnowitprolongedafewclosingchordswhilethebishoppausedbeforehisaddress，restinghiskeeneyesonthepeople。Hewasdressedinaplainsuitofblackwithanarrowblacktie。ThiswasbecausetheUnionPacificRailroad，whileithaddeliveredhimcorrectlyatGreenRiver，haddespatchedhisrobestowardsCheyenne。
Withoutcitingchapterandversethebishopbegan：
“Andhearose，andcametohisfather。Butwhenhewasyetagreatwayoff，hisfathersawhim，andhadcompassion，andran，andfellonhisneckandkissedhim。“
Thebishoptoldthestoryofthatsurpassingparable，andthenproceededtodrawfromitadiscoursefittedtothedriftingdestiniesinwhosepresencehefoundhimselfforonesolitarymorning。Hespokeunlikemanyclergymen。Hiswordswerechieflythosewhichthepeopleroundhimused，andhisvoicewasmorelikeearnesttalkingthanpreaching。
MissSabinaStonefeltthearmofhercow-puncherloosenslightly，andshelookedathim。Buthewaslookingatthebishop，nolongergravelybutwithwide-openeyes，alert。Whenthenarrativereachedtheelderbrotherinthefield，andhowhecametothehouseandheardsoundsofmusicanddancing，MissStonedrewawayfromhercompanionandlethimwatchthebishop，sinceheseemedtopreferthat。Shetooktoreadinghymnsvindictively。Thebishophimselfnotedthesun-brownedboyfaceandthewide-openeyes。Hewastoofarawaytoseeanythingbutthealert，listeningpositionoftheyoungcow-puncher。Hecouldnotdiscernhowthat，afterhehadleftthemusicanddancingandbeguntodrawmorals，attentionfadedfromthoseeyesthatseemedtowatchhim，andtheyfilledwithdreaminess。Itwasveryhotinchurch。ChiefWashakiewenttosleep，andsodidacorporal；butLinMcLeansatinthesamealertpositiontillMissStonepulledhimandaskedifheintendedtositdownthroughthehymn。Thenchurchwasout。Officers，Indians，andallthepeopledispersedthroughthegreatsunshinetotheirdwellings，andthecow-puncherrodebesideSabinainsilence。
“Whatareyoustudyingover，Mr。McLean？“inquiredthelady，afterahundredyards。
“DidyouevertastesteamedDuxburyclams？“askedLin，absently。
“No，indeed。What’sthem？“
“Oh，justclams。Yu’havedrawnbutter，too。“Mr。McLeanfellsilentagain。
“IguessI’llbelateforsettin’thecolonel’stable。Good-bye，“saidSabina，quickly，andswishedherwhipacrossthepony，whoscamperedawaywithheralongthestraightroadacrosstheplaintothepost。
Lincaughtupwithheratonceandmadehispeace。
“Only，“protestedSabina，“Iain’tusedtogentlementakingmeoutand——
well，sameasifIwasacollie-dog。Maybeit’sWindRiverpoliteness。“
ButshewentridingwithhimupTroutCreekinthecooloftheafternoon。
OutoftheIndiantepees，scatteredwideamongtheflatlevelsofsage-brush，smokerosethinandgentle，andvanished。Theysplashedacrossthemanylittlerunningchannelswhichleadwaterthroughthatthirstysoil，andthoughtherangeofmountainscamenonearer，behindthemthepost，withitswhite，flatbuildingsandgreentrees，dwindledtoatoyvillage。
“My!butit’sfartoeverywhereshere，“exclaimedSabina，“andit’slittleyou’resayin’foryourselfto-day，Mr。McLean。I’llhavetodothetalking。What’sthatthingnow，wheretherocksare？“
“That’sLittleWindRiverCanyon，“saidtheyoungman。“Feellikegoin’
there，MissStone？“
“Why，yes。Itlooksrealniceandshadylike，don’tit？Let’s。“
SoMissStoneturnedherponyinthatdirection。
“Whendoyourfolkseatsupper？“inquiredLin。
“Half-pastsix。Oh，we’velotsoftime!Comeon。“
“Howmanymilesperhourdoyoufigurethatcayuseofyourncantravel？“
Linasked。
“Whatareyoua-talkingabout，anyway？You’rethatstrangeto-day，“saidthelady。
“Onlyifwetrytomakethatcanyon，Iguessyou’llbelatesettin’thecolonel’stable，“Linremarked，hishazeleyessmilinguponher。“Thatis，ifyourhorseain’tgoodfortwentymilesanhour。Mineain’t，I
know。ButI’lldomybesttostaywithyu’。“
“You’retheteasingestman——“saidMissStone，pouting。“Imighthaveknoweditwaseversomuchfurthernoritlooked。“
“Well，Iain’tsayin’Idon’twanttogo，ifyu’wasdesirousofcampin’
outto-night。“
“Mr。McLean!Indeed，andI’ddonosuchthing!“andSabinagiggled。
Asage-henroseundertheirhorses’feet，andhurtledawayheavilyoverthenextriseofground，takingafinalwidesailoutofsight。
“Somethinglikethempartridgesusedto，“saidLin，musingly。
“Partridges？“inquiredSabina。
“UsedtobeinthewoodsbetweenLynnandSalem。Maybethewoodsaregonebythistime。Yes，theymustbegone，Iguess。“
Presentlytheydismountedandsoughtthestreambank。
“WehadmusicanddancingatThanksgivingandsuchtimes，“saidLin，hiswirylengthstretchedonthegrassbesidetheseatedSabina。Hewasnotlookingather，butshetookapleasureinwatchinghim，hiscurlyheadandbronzeface，againstwhichtheyoungmustacheshowedtoitsfulladvantage。
“Iexpectyouusedtodancealot，“remarkedSabina，forasubject。
“Yes。Doyu’knowthePortlandFancy？“
Sabinadidnot，andhersubjectdiedaway。
“Didanybodyevertellyouyouhadgoodeyes？“sheinquirednext。
“Why，sure，“saidLin，wakingforamoment；“butIlikeyourcolorbest。
Agirl’seyeswillmostlybeataman’s。“
“Indeed，Idon’tthinkso!“exclaimedpoorSabina，toomuchexpectanttoperceivethefatalnoteofroutinewithwhichhertransientadmirerpronouncedthisgallantry。Heinformedherthatherswerelikethesea，andshetoldhimshehadnotyetlookeduponthesea。
“Never？“saidhe。“It’saturrublepityyou’veneversawsaltwater。It’sdifferentfromfresh。Allaroundhomeit’sblue——awfulblueinJuly——
aroundSwampscottandMarbleheadandNahant，andaroundtheislands。I’veswamtherelots。ThenourhomebruckupandwewenttoboardinBoston。“
Hesnappedoffaflowerinreachofhislongarm。Suddenlyalldreaminesslefthim。
“Iwonderifyou’llbesettin’thecolonel’stablewhenIcomeback？“hesaid。
MissStonewasataloss。
“I’mgoin’Eastto-morrow——East，toBoston。“
YesterdayhehadtoldherthatsixteenmilestoLanderwasthefarthestjourneyfromthepostthatheintendedtomake——thefarthestfromthepostandher。
“Ihopenothingain’thappenedtoyourfolks？“saidshe。
“Iain’tgotnofolks，“repliedLin，“barringabrother。Iexpectheistakinggoodcareofhimself。“
“Don’tyoucorrespond？“
“Well，Iguesshewouldiftherewasanythingtosay。Thereain’tbeennothin’。“
Sabinathoughttheymusthavequarrelled，butlearnedthattheyhadnot。
Itwastimeforhernowtoreturnandsetthecolonel’stable，soLinroseandwenttobringherhorse。Whenhehadputherinhersaddleshenoticedhimsteptohisown。
“Why，Ididn’tknowyouwerelame!“criedshe。
“Shucks!“saidLin。“Itdon’tcrampmystyleany。“Hehadsprungonhishorse，riddenbesideher，leanedandkissedherbeforeshegotanymeasureofhisactivity。
“That’show，“saidhe；andtheytooktheirhomewardwaygalloping。“No，“
Lincontinued，“Frankandmeneverquarrelled。IjustthoughtI’dhavealookatthisWesterncountry。Frank，hethoughtdry-goodswasgoodenoughforhim，andsowe’rebothsatisfied，Iexpect。Andthat’salotofyearsnow。Whoopye!“hesuddenlysangout，andfiredhissix-shooteratajack-rabbit，whostrunghimselfoutflatandflewovertheearth。
Bothdismountedattheparade-groundgate，andhekissedheragainwhenshewasnotlooking，uponwhichsheveryproperlyslappedhim；andhetookthehorsestothestable。Hesatdowntoteaatthehotel，andfoundthemealconsistedofblackpotatoes，graytea，andagutteringdishoffatpork。Buthisappetitewasgood，andheremarkedtohimselfthatinsidethefirsthourhewasinBostonhewouldhavesteamedDuxburyclams。OfSabinaheneverthoughtagain，anditislikelythatshefoundotherstotakehisplace。FortWashakiewasonehundredandfiftymilesfromtherailway，andmenthereweremanyandgirlswerefew。
Thenextmorningtheotherpassengersenteredthestagewithresignation，knowingthethirty-sixhoursofevilthatlaybeforethem。Linclimbedupbesidethedriver。Hehadanewtrunknow。
“Don’tgetfull，Lin，“saidtheclerk，puttingthemail-sacksinatthestore。
“Myplansain’tsettledthatfaryet，“repliedMr。McLean。
“Leaveitoutofthem，“saidthevoiceofthebishop，laughing，insidethestage。
Itwasacool，fineair。GazingoverthehugeplaindowninwhichliesFortWashakie，Linheardthefaintnotesofthetrumpetontheparadeground，andtookagood-byelookatallthings。HewatchedtheAmericanflaggrowsmall，sawthecircleofsteamrisingawaydownbythehotsprings，lookedatthebadlandsbeyond，chemicallypinkandroseamidthevast，natural，quiet-coloredplain。AcrossthespreadingdistanceIndianstrottedatwidespaces，generallytwolargebucksononesmallpony，orasquawandpappoose——abundleofparti-coloredrags。Presidingoverthewholerosethemountainstothewest，serene，liftingintotheclearestlight。Thenonceagaincamethenowtinymusicofthetrumpet。
“Whendoyu’figureoncomin’back？“inquiredthedriver。
“Oh，I’lljustlookaroundbackthereforaspell，“saidLin。“Aboutamonth，Iguess。“
Hehadsevenhundreddollars。AtLanderthehorsesarechanged；andduringthisoperationLin’sfriendsgatheredandsaid，wherewasanysenseingoingtoBostonwhenyoucouldhaveagoodtimewhereyouwere？
ButLinremainedsittingsafeonthestage。Towardevening，atthebottomofalittledrygulchsomeeightfeetdeep，thehorsesdecideditwasasuitableplacetostay。Itwasthebishopwhopersuadedthemtochangetheirminds。Hetoldthedrivertogiveupbeating，andunharness。Thentheywereledupthebank，quivering，andabrokentracewassplicedwithrope。Thenthestagewasforcedontothelevelground，thebishopprovingastrongman，familiarwiththegearofvehicles。Theycrossedthroughthepassamongthequakingaspsandthepines，and，reachingPacificSprings，camedownagainintoopencountry。ThatafternoonthestageputitspassengersdownontherailroadplatformatGreenRiver；
thiswastherouteinthosedaysbeforethemid-wintercatastrophesoffrozenpassengersledtoitsabandonment。Thebishopwasgoingwest。Hisrobeshadpassedhimontheupstageduringthenight。Whenthereverendgentlemanheardthishewassilentforaveryshortmoment，andthenlaughedvigorouslyinthebaggage-room。
“Icanunderstandhowyouswearsometimes，“hesaidtoLinMcLean；“butI
can’t，yousee。Notevenatthis。“
Thecow-puncherwascheckinghisowntrunktoOmaha。
“Good-byeandgoodlucktoyou，“continuedthebishop，givinghishandtoLin。“Andlookhere——don’tyouthinkyoumightleavethat’gettingfull’
outofyourplans？“
Lingaveaslightlyshamefacedgrin。“Idon’tguessIcan，sir，“hesaid。
“I’mgivin’yu’straightgoods，yu’see，“headded“That’sright。Butyoulooklikeamanwhocouldstopwhenhe’dhadenough。Trythat。You’remanenough——andcomeandseemewheneverwe’reinthesameplace。“
Hewenttothehotel。TherewereseveralhoursforLintowait。Hewalkedupanddowntheplatformtillthestarscameoutandthebrightlightsofthetownshoneinthesaloonwindows。Overacrossthewaypiano-musicsoundedthroughoneofthemanyopendoors。