But I was more concerned with its remoteness from civilization than its beauty.  At that time in the early ’seventies, when the vast western third of Texas was a wilderness, the pioneer had done wonders to settle there and establish places like Linrock.

As we rolled swiftly along, the whole sweeping range was dotted with cattle, and farther on, within a few miles of town, there were droves of horses that brought enthusiastic praise from Miss Sampson and her cousin.

“Plenty of room here for the long rides,” I said, waving a hand at the gray-green expanse.  “Your horses won’t suffer on this range.”

She was delighted, and her cousin for once seemed speechless.

“That’s the ranch,” said the driver, pointing with his whip.

It needed only a glance for me to see that Colonel Sampson’s ranch was on a scale fitting the country.

The house was situated on the only elevation around Linrock, and it was not high, nor more than a few minutes’ walk from the edge of town.

It was a low, flat-roofed structure, made of red adobe bricks and covered what appeared to be fully an acre of ground.  All was green about it except where the fenced corrals and numerous barns or sheds showed gray and red.

Wright and the cowboys disappeared ahead of us in the cottonwood trees.  Colonel Sampson got out of the buckboard and waited for us.  His face wore the best expression I had seen upon it yet.  There was warmth and love, and something that approached sorrow or regret.

His daughter was agitated, too.  I got out and offered my seat, which Colonel Sampson took.

It was scarcely a time for me to be required, or even noticed at all, and I took advantage of it and turned toward the town.

Ten minutes of leisurely walking brought me to the shady outskirts of Linrock and I entered the town with mingled feelings of curiosity, eagerness, and expectation.

The street I walked down was not a main one.  There were small, red houses among oaks and cottonwoods.

I went clear through to the other side, probably more than half a mile.  I crossed a number of intersecting streets, met children, nice-looking women, and more than one dusty-booted man.

Half-way back this street I turned at right angles and walked up several blocks till I came to a tree-bordered plaza.  On the far side opened a broad street which for all its horses and people had a sleepy look.

I walked on, alert, trying to take in everything, wondering if I would meet Steele, wondering how I would know him if we did meet.  But I believed I could have picked that Ranger out of a thousand strangers, though I had never seen him.

Presently the residences gave place to buildings fronting right upon the stone sidewalk.  I passed a grain store, a hardware store, a grocery store, then several unoccupied buildings and a vacant corner.

The next block, aside from the rough fronts of the crude structures, would have done credit to a small town even in eastern Texas.  Here was evidence of business consistent with any prosperous community of two thousand inhabitants.