point of this is that I am asking you to go see Rust, and cheer
him up, and do what you can for the poor devil. It's a good deal to
ask of you, I know, especially as Rust saw your picture many a time and
knows you were my girl. But you needn't tell him that you--we couldn't
make a go of it.

And, as I am writing this to you, I see no reason why I shouldn't go on
in behalf of myself.

The fact is, Carley, I miss writing to you more than I miss anything
of my old life. I'll bet you have a trunkful of letters from me--unless
you've destroyed them. I'm not going to say how I miss your letters. But
I will say you wrote the most charming and fascinating letters of anyone
I ever knew, quite aside from any sentiment. You knew, of course, that
I had no other girl correspondent. Well, I got along fairly well before
you came West, but I'd be an awful liar if I denied I didn't get lonely
for you and your letters. It's different now that you've been to Oak
Creek. I'm alone most of the time and I dream a lot, and I'm afraid I
see you here in my cabin, and along the brook, and under the pines, and
riding Calico--which you came to do well--and on my hogpen fence--and,
oh, everywhere! I don't want you to think I'm down in the mouth, for
I'm not. I'll take my medicine. But, Carley, you spoiled me, and I miss
hearing from you, and I don't see why it wouldn't be all right for you
to send me a friendly letter occasionally.

It is autumn now. I wish you could see Arizona canyons in their gorgeous
colors. We have had frost right along and the mornings are great.
There's a broad zigzag belt of gold halfway up the San Francisco peaks,
and that is the aspen thickets taking on their fall coat. Here in the
canyon you'd think there was blazing fire everywhere. The vines and
the maples are red, scarlet, carmine, cerise, magenta, all the hues of
flame. The oak leaves are turning russet gold, and the sycamores are
yellow green. Up on the desert the other day I rode across a patch of
asters, lilac and lavender, almost purple. I had to get off and pluck a
handful. And then what do you think? I dug up the whole bunch, roots and
all, and planted them on the sunny side of my cabin. I rather guess your
love of flowers engendered this remarkable susceptibility in me.

I'm home early most every afternoon now, and I like the couple of hours
loafing around. Guess it's bad for me, though. You know I seldom hunt,
and the trout in the pool here are so tame now