n he looked up again the
girl fancied that he had decided something. "Work hurts nobody. It's
the worry that leaves the mark," he said, with a smile. "Of course, a
good many people will have told you that before. Yes, I've been
thinking a good deal lately."
"It is occasionally a solace to tell one's friends one's thoughts,"
said Miss Deringham.
"Well," said Alton gravely, "there's a thing I feel I should do, and
yet I don't want to, because it would stand in the way of my doing
something else."
"That is a somewhat common difficulty," said Alice Deringham. "It
depends upon the importance to yourself, or others, of the first thing."
Alton nodded. "There are," he said, "men in this district who have
worked very hard, not for the bare living the ranch gives them, because
some have put a good deal more into the land than they have taken out
of it, but for what it will give them presently. Now, unless somebody
does the right thing for them, another man will walk right in and take
all they have worked for away. I wouldn't like that to happen, because
I am one of them, you see."
"No," said Miss Deringham. "Still, surmising that you are the
somebody, I wonder if you have a more convincing reason."
A little flush seemed to creep into Alton's bronzed face. "I find I
can talk to you as I never did to any one else," he said. "Well, this
valley's waiting to feed a host of people, and teeming with riches that
somebody is wanting, and I feel it's my task to do the best I can for
it. Now, when one feels that, and does nothing, he's putting a load he
was meant to carry on other people's shoulders."
"Yes," said Miss Deringham. "Still, isn't it slightly egotistical?
There may be other men who could do what is necessary better."
Alton laughed a little. "You get right home every time," he said.
"I've been thinking the same thing, but, though I wanted to, I couldn't
find the man, and there isn't much use in running away from the work
that's set out for you."
Alice Deringham understood him because she was a somewhat intellectual
young woman, though she had, and possibly fortunately, but seldom been
required to decide between inclination and duty in any affair of
importance hitherto. There was also something that touched her in the
man's simple faithfulness.
"And you are going to do a good deal?" she said.
"I don't know," said Alton gravely. "I should like to. You see, we
want roads and mills, and an of
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