re a sad, strange,
anxious expression. Then Belding sat alone, pondering the contracting
emotions of his wife and daughter. It was beyond his understanding.
Women were creatures of feeling. Belding saw reason to be delighted to
entertain Dick's family; and for the time being no disturbing thought
entered his mind.

Presently the Gales came back into the sitting-room, looking very
different without the long gray cloaks and veils. Belding saw
distinction and elegance. Mr. Gale seemed a grave, troubled, kindly
person, ill in body and mind. Belding received the same impression of
power that Ben Chase had given him, only here it was minus any
harshness or hard quality. He gathered that Mr. Gale was a man of
authority. Mrs. Gale rather frightened Belding, but he could not have
told why. The girl was just like Dick as he used to be.

Their manner of speaking also reminded Belding of Dick. They talked of
the ride from Ash Fork down to the border, of the ugly and torn-up
Casita, of the heat and dust and cactus along the trail. Presently
Nell came in, now cool and sweet in white, with a red rose at her
breast. Belding had never been so proud of her. He saw that she meant
to appear well in the eyes of Dick's people, and began to have a faint
perception of what the ordeal was for her. Belding imagined the sooner
the Gales were told that Dick was to marry Nell the better for all
concerned, and especially for Nell. In the general conversation that
ensued he sought for an opening in which to tell this important news,
but he was kept so busy answering questions about his position on the
border, the kind of place Forlorn River was, the reason for so many
tents, etc., that he was unable to find opportunity.

"It's very interesting, very interesting," said Mr. Gale. "At another
time I want to learn all you'll tell me about the West. It's new to me.
I'm surprised, amazed, sir, I may say.... But, Mr. Belding, what I want
to know most is about my son. I'm broken in health. I've worried
myself ill over him. I don't mind telling you, sir, that we quarreled.
I laughed at his threats. He went away. And I've come to see that I
didn't know Richard. I was wrong to upbraid him. For a year we've
known nothing of his doings, and now for almost six months we've not
heard from him at all. Frankly, Mr. Belding, I weakened first, and
I've come to hunt him up. My fear is that I didn't start soon enough.
The boy will have a great