across the river, back from the long, slow rise of
sand from the water's edge, rose five blunt heights
like craters long extinct; while above these, arching
across the heavens in spotless sheen, curved
the turquoise dome of a southwestern midday
sky, flooding the dust and dunes below in throbbing
heat-rays. It was God's own section of
earth, and not the least beautiful of its vistas,
looming now steadily ahead on their right, was
the place belonging to Judge Richards. House
and outhouses white, and just now aglint in the
white light of the sun, the whole ranch presented
the appearance of diamonds nestling in a
bed of emerald-green velvet. Turning off at this
ranch, the Judge tossed the reins to a waiting
Mexican.

Helen was out of the phaeton like a flash. Carefully
guiding the colt around the house and across
a _patio_, she turned him loose into a spacious corral.
Then she fell to watching him, and she continued
to watch him until a voice from the house,
that of an aged Mexican woman who presided
over the kitchen, warned her that dinner was
waiting. Reluctantly hugging the colt -- hugging
him almost savagely in her sudden affection for
him -- she then turned to leave, but not without
a word of explanation.

"I must leave you now, honey!" she said, much
as a child would take leave of her doll. "But I
sha'n't be away from you long, and when I come
back I'll see what I can do about feeding you!"

The colt stood for a time, peering between the

[[38]]

p037 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p038w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p039

v?