anding of
the mysteries of life and existence.

She could sympathize with him, for she knew exactly how he had felt.
She turned and looked toward the distant mountains, behind which the
sun was just then swimming--a great ball of shimmering gold, which
threw off an effulgent expanse of yellow light that was slowly turning
into saffron and violet as it met the shadows below the hills.

"Whoever saw such colors?" she asked suddenly, her face transfixed with
sheer delight.

"It's cert'nly pretty, ma'am."

She clapped her hands. "It is magnificent!" she declared
enthusiastically. She came closer to him and stretched an arm toward
the mountains. "Look at that saffron shade which is just now blending
with the streak of pearl striking the cleft between those hills! See
the violet tinge that has come into that sea of orange, and the purple
haze touching the snow-caps of the mountains. And now the flaming red,
the deep yellow, the slate blue; and now that gauzy veil of lilac,
rose, and amethyst, fading and dulling as the darker shadows rise from
the valleys!"

Her flashing eyes sought Ferguson's. Twilight had suddenly come.

"It is the most beautiful country in the world!" she said positively.

He was regarding her with gravely humorous eyes. "It cert'nly is
pretty, ma'am," he returned. "But you can't make a whole book out of
one sunset."

Her eyes flashed. "No," she returned. "Nor can I make a whole book
out of only one character. But I am going to try and draw a word
picture of the West by writing of the things that I see. And I am
going to try and have some real characters in it. I shall try to have
them talk and act naturally."

She smiled suddenly and looked at him with a significant expression.
"And the hero will not be an Easterner--to swagger through the pages of
the book, scaring people into submission through the force of his
compelling personality. He will be a cowboy who will do things after
the manner of the country--a real, unaffected care-free puncher!"

"Have you got your eye on such a man?" he asked, assuring himself that
he knew of no man who would fill the requirements she had named.

"I don't mind telling you that I have," she returned, looking straight
at him.

It suddenly burst upon him. His face crimsoned. He felt like bolting.
But he managed to grin, though she could see that the grin was forced.

"It's gettin' late, ma'am," he said, as he turned toward his pony. "I
recko