rows. His whole attention is
given up to a contemplation of the land beyond the White River, and the
distance away behind him to the left, which is the direction of the
Rosebud Indian Reservation.

Yesterday his attention had been called in these directions, and on
reaching the "half-way" he had serious thoughts of returning home, but
reflection had kept him to his journey if it had in no way eased his
mind.

Yesterday he had observed a smoky haze spreading slowly northward on the
lightest of breezes; and it was coming across the Reservation. It was
early June, and the prairie was too young and green to burn yet.

The haze was still hanging in the bright morning air. It had spread right
across his path in the night, and a strong smell of burning greeted him as
he rode out.

He urged his horse and rode faster than he had ridden the day before.
There was a silent sympathy between horse and rider which displayed itself
in the alertness of the animal's manner; he was traveling with head held
high, nostrils distended, as though sniffing at the smell of burning in
some alarm. And his gait, too, had become a little uneven, which, in a
horse, means that his attention is distracted.

Before an hour had passed the man's look changed to one of some
apprehension. Smoke was rising in a new direction. He had no need to turn
to see it, it was on his left front, far away beyond the horizon, but
somewhere where the railroad track, linking the East with Beacon
Crossing, cut through the plains of Nebraska. Suddenly his horse leapt
forward into a strong swinging gallop. He had felt the touch of the spur.
Seth pulled out a great silver timepiece and consulted it.

"I ken make it in two hours an' a haf from now," he muttered. "That'll be
haf past eight. Good! Put it along, Buck."

The last was addressed to the horse; and the dust rose in great heavy
clouds behind them as the willing beast stretched out to his work.

Beacon Crossing is called a city by those residents who have lived in it
since the railway brought it into existence. Chance travelers, and those
who are not prejudiced in its favor, call it a hole. It certainly has
claims in the latter direction. It is the section terminal on the railway;
and that is the source of its questionable prosperity.

There is a main street parallel to the railroad track with some stores
facing the latter. It has only one sidewalk and only one row of buildings;
the other side of the street is