yes."

"I can write, an' I can read too. I've been to school in Sidney,
Nebraska, an' Magaw, Kansas, an' Salt Lake--that's the finest town
except Denver."

Billy fell into that cheerful strain of comment which, unreplied to,
yet goes on contented and self-sustaining, while Mr. McLean gave amiable
signs of assent, but chiefly looked out of the window; and when the now
interested waiter said respectfully that he desired to close the room,
they went out to the office, where the money was got out of the safe and
the bill paid.

The streets were full of the bright sun, and seemingly at Denver's gates
stood the mountains sparkling; an air crisp and pleasant wafted from
their peaks; no smoke hung among the roofs, and the sky spread wide over
the city without a stain; it was holiday up among the chimneys and tall
buildings, and down among the quiet ground-stories below as well; and
presently from their scattered pinnacles through the town the bells
broke out against the jocund silence of the morning.

"Don't you like music?" inquired Billy.

"Yes," said Lin.

Ladies with their husbands and children were passing and meeting,
orderly yet gayer than if it were only Sunday, and the salutations of
Christmas came now and again to the cow-puncher's ears; but to-day,
possessor of his own share in this, Lin looked at every one with a sort
of friendly challenge, and young Billy talked along beside him.

"Don't you think we could go in here?" Billy asked. A church door was
open, and the rich organ sounded through to the pavement. "They've good
music here, an' they keep it up without much talking between. I've been
in lots of times."

They went in and sat to hear the music. Better than the organ, it seemed
to them, were the harmonious voices raised from somewhere outside, like
unexpected visitants; and the pair sat in their back seat, too deep
in listening to the processional hymn to think of rising in decent
imitation of those around them. The crystal melody of the refrain
especially reached their understandings, and when for the fourth time
"Shout the glad tidings, exultingly sing," pealed forth and ceased, both
the delighted faces fell.

"Don't you wish there was more?" Billy whispered.

"Wish there was a hundred verses," answered Lin.

But canticles and responses followed, with so little talking between
them they were held spellbound, seldom thinking to rise or kneel.
Lin's eyes roved over the church, dwelling upon the p