Then I opened my eyes and my arms, too, and we were reunited. It must have been a happy moment, so happy that it numbed me beyond appreciation. “Yes, Sally,” I agreed; “but no man ever had such a wonderful girl.”
“Russ, I never—took off your ring,” she whispered.
“But you hid your hand from my sight,” I replied quickly.
“Oh dear Russ, we’re crazy—as crazy as those lunatics outside. Let’s think a little.”
I was very content to have no thought at all, just to see and feel her close to me.
“Russ, will you give up the Ranger Service for me?” she asked.
“Indeed I will.”
“And leave this fighting Texas, never to return till the day of guns and Rangers and bad men and even-breaks is past?”
“Yes.”
“Will you go with me to my old home? It was beautiful once, Russ, before it was let run to rack and ruin. A thousand acres. An old stone house. Great mossy oaks. A lake and river. There are bear, deer, panther, wild boars in the breaks. You can hunt. And ride! I’ve horses, Russ, such horses! They could run these scrubby broncos off their legs. Will you come?”
“Come! Sally, I rather think I will. But, dearest, after I’m well again I must work,” I said earnestly. “I’ve got to have a job.”
“You’re indeed a poor cowboy out of a job! Remember your deceit. Oh, Russ! Well, you’ll have work, never fear.”
“Sally, is this old home of yours near the one Diane speaks of so much?” I asked.
“Indeed it is. But hers has been kept under cultivation and in repair, while mine has run down. That will be our work, to build it up. So it’s settled then?”
“Almost. There are certain—er—formalities—needful in a compact of this kind.” She looked inquiringly at me, with a soft flush. “Well, if you are so dense, try to bring back that Sally Langdon who used to torment me. How you broke your promises! How you leaned from your saddle! Kiss me, Sally!”
Later, as we drew close to Uvalde, Sally and I sat in one seat, after the manner of Diane and Vaughn, and we looked out over the west where the sun was setting behind dim and distant mountains. We were fast leaving the wild and barren border. Already it seemed far beyond that broken rugged horizon with its dark line silhouetted against the rosy and golden sky. Already the spell of its wild life and the grim and haunting faces had begun to fade out of my memory. Let newer Rangers, with less to lose, and with the call in their hearts, go on with our work ’till soon that wild border would be safe!
The great Lone Star State must work out its destiny. Some distant day, in the fulness of time, what place the Rangers had in that destiny would be history.