her, but did not rival it. Short
coulees had eaten the bluff slopes into flutings, and spilled small
rivulets upon the plain. Yet, barring these, and a lake that sparkled, a
round sapphire, on the right, there was superb uniformity. Not a stream,
not a butte, not even a nubbin of rock varied the view. And not a head
of cattle! To the south moved a score of yellow animals--antelope. But
these and a village of saucy prairie-dogs were the only signs of life.
The land dropped away by imperceptible degrees. As imperceptibly, it
melted into a mellow sky.

Dallas and Marylyn were each intent upon Clark's, lying far ahead, and
to the left, a dun-coloured line which seemed scarcely to get nearer as
the time went. But after an hour, their patience was rewarded. When the
dun-coloured line resolved itself into two, and they saw the cow-camp: A
narrow street flanked by low shanties of canvas and board.

Again, Dallas and Marylyn were absorbed, each with a mental conflict.
The younger got fidgety, then petulant, and began to complain of thirst.
For once, the elder girl showed scant sympathy. She was hurriedly
planning some new speeches.

At the southern end of the camp, their destination was made plain to
them by a sign reading, "General Merchandise." It was nailed along the
hip of a large building that stood midway of the street. Looking to
neither side, they made straight for it.

When the team came to a stand before the store, the girls saw to their
surprise that the door was shut. They waited. A minute passed. No one
came out. Then, Dallas climbed down and knocked. There was no answer.
She waited again. Finally, she tried the knob. It resisted her effort.
From within came the rattle of a chain.

"It's locked!" She went back to Marylyn. The two looked at each other.
Over the younger's face swept a flush of relief. But Dallas had
forgotten her dread of seeing Lounsbury in a keen disappointment at
finding him gone. She glanced anxiously up and down the street.

It was deserted and still. Dallas climbed back to the seat. "Maybe he's
at the Fort," she said encouragingly. "We'll drive home quick. There's a
lot of it down-hill." She clucked to the team.

At that moment the door of a near-by shanty opened. A man came out,
waving a letter. "Say! hello!" he bawled; "don't you want your mail?"

Dallas checked the mules.

"I got a letter for you," he went on. It was Al Braden of Sioux Falls.

Dallas gave Marylyn the reins and reac