th--seeing as Santa Fe had his eyes out straight along for
everybody about the place who'd a dollar in his pocket, and wasn't
satisfied till he'd scooped in that dollar over his table at the
Forest Queen.

"There's the new church we're building," Hill went on, as they got to
the top of the slope and headed for the deepo. "It ain't much to look
at yet, the spire not being put on; and it won't show up well, even
when it gets its spire on it, with churches East. But we're going to
be satisfied with it, seeing it's the best we can do. You'll be
interested to know, ma'am, your nephew give the land."

"William hasn't let on anything about it," Hart's aunt said, looking
pleased all over. "But what in the world is a church doing with a
railroad track running into it, Mr. Hill?"

Hill said he'd forgot about the track when he settled to use the new
freight-house for church purposes; but he said he pulled himself
together quick and told her the track was temp'ry--put in so building
material could unload right on the ground. And then he took to talking
about how obliging the railroad folks had been helping 'em--and kept
a-talking that way till he got the coach to the deepo, and didn't need
to hustle making things up any more. He said he never was so thankful
in his life as he was when his stunt was done. He was just tired out,
he said, lying straight ahead all day over thirty miles of bad road
and not being able once to speak natural to his mules.

* * * * *

Hart was waiting at the deepo, on the chance his aunt would come in on
the coach; and when she saw him she give a little squeal, she was so
pleased, and hopped down in no time off the box--she was as brisk as a
bee in her doings--and took to hugging him and half crying over him
just like he was a little boy.

"Oh, William," she said, "I am _so_ happy getting to you! And I'm
happier'n I expected to be, finding out how quiet and respectable
Palomitas is--not a bit what your letters made me think it was--and
such real good people living in it, and everything but the queer
country and the queer mud houses just like it is at home. Mr. Hill
has been telling me all about it, coming over, and about this new
church you're building that you gave the lot for. To think you've
never told me! Oh, William, I am so glad and so thankful that out here
in this wild region you've kept serious-minded and are turning out
such a good man!"

Hart loo