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。