Part 26 (1/2)

”Helen seems to have been pretty awkwardly situated when you appeared on the scene. Sit down and smoke while I get supper.”

They talked gaily during the meal.

”Is there any means of sending back the horse I brought?” Kermode asked after a while.

”I've been thinking about that,” Foster replied.

”I have a neighbor who is going east on business. He'll strike the new line where you left it, and he'll be glad to have the horse.”

Then they talked about other matters, but when the men sat smoking some time later, Foster said cordially:

”You'll stay here a while?”

Kermode said that he would remain a few days.

”Where will you make for then?” his host asked. ”There's nothing doing round here except a little cattle-raising.”

”For the mountains, I think. I hear the railroad people are busy in the pa.s.ses; but I'll try to strike something softer than handling rails.”

”I can fix that,” Foster declared. ”They've been advertising for haulage tenders--there are a lot of piles and building logs they want brought in.

Now I've two good horses I've not much use for and I'd be glad to let you have them. You could bring them back when the frost stops work.”

”Thanks,” said Kermode. ”What's your idea of shares?”

The rancher declared that he did not expect a share, but when Kermode insisted, they arrived at a satisfactory understanding, and soon after Helen appeared the party broke up.

Kermode spent three or four pleasant days with his new friends, and when he left the ranch one morning, leading two strong horses, Helen Foster walked with him some distance up the valley. She had not known him long enough to recognize his failings, which were plentiful, but his virtues were obvious, and she knew that she would miss him.

”So you are going out on the trail again,” she said. ”Where will it lead you?”

”That,” he answered with a gay laugh, ”is more than I can tell. No doubt, to fresh adventures and strange experiences.”

”But you know your first stopping-place, the railroad camp. When you have finished your work there, you could come here again and rest a while.”

”No,” he said, more gravely; ”I'll send your brother his horses, but I don't think I'll come back. It's nice to feel that we have been pretty good friends, but it might spoil any pleasant impression I'm leaving if you saw too much of me. Besides, I'm a wanderer; the long trail beckons.”

”It runs through swamps and many rough places into the lonely wilds.

Aren't you afraid of weariness?”

Kermode smiled, falling into her mood.

”You may remember that there are compensations,” he said; ”glimpses of glory on the untrodden heights. It's true that one never gets there, but they lead one on.”

”But you can see them from the valley.”

”No; the farmer's eyes are fixed on the furrow; he must follow the plow.

His crop and his stock are nearer him; he cannot see past them. The wanderer's mind is free.”