but a short moment
before had been so real to her mind; and, lo! on this side and on that
there was none!

The night was wide like a great floor shut in by a low, vast dome of
curving blue set with the largest, most wonderful stars she had ever
seen. Heavy shadows of purple-green, smoke-like, hovered over earth
darker and more intense than the unfathomable blue of the night sky. It
seemed like the secret nesting-place of mysteries wherein no human foot
might dare intrude. It was incredible that such could be but common
sage-brush, sand, and greasewood wrapped about with the beauty of the
lonely night.

No building broke the inky outlines of the plain, nor friendly light
streamed out to cheer her heart. Not even a tree was in sight, except on
the far horizon, where a heavy line of deeper darkness might mean a
forest. Nothing, absolutely nothing, in the blue, deep, starry dome
above and the bluer darkness of the earth below save one sharp shaft
ahead like a black mast throwing out a dark arm across the track.

As soon as she sighted it she picked up her baggage and made her painful
way toward it, for her knees and wrist were bruised and her baggage was
heavy.

A soft drip, drip greeted her as she drew nearer; something plashing
down among the cinders by the track. Then she saw the tall column with
its arm outstretched, and looming darker among the sage-brush the
outlines of a water-tank. It was so she recognized the engine's
drinking-tank, and knew that she had mistaken a pause to water the
engine for a regular stop at a station.

Her soul sank within her as she came up to the dripping water and laid
her hand upon the dark upright, as if in some way it could help her. She
dropped her baggage and stood, trembling, gazing around upon the
beautiful, lonely scene in horror; and then, like a mirage against the
distance, there melted on her frightened eyes a vision of her father
and mother sitting around the library lamp at home, as they sat every
evening. They were probably reading and talking at this very minute, and
trying not to miss her on this her first venture away from the home into
the great world to teach. What would they say if they could see their
beloved daughter, whom they had sheltered all these years and let go
forth so reluctantly now, in all her confidence of youth, bound by
almost absurd promises to be careful and not run any risks.

Yet here she was, standing alone beside a water-tank in the midst of