Both living room and sleeping room were arranged so that the Painted Desert could be seen from one window, and on the other side the whole of the San Francisco Mountains.  Both rooms were to have open fireplaces.  Carley’s idea was for service and durability.  She thought of comfort in the severe winters of that high latitude, but elegance and luxury had no more significance in her life.

Hoyle made his suggestions as to changes and adaptations, and, receiving her approval, he went on to show her what had been already accomplished.  Back on higher ground a reservoir of concrete was being constructed near an ever-flowing spring of snow water from the peaks.  This water was being piped by gravity to the house, and was a matter of greatest satisfaction to Hoyle, for he claimed that it would never freeze in winter, and would be cold and abundant during the hottest and driest of summers.  This assurance solved the most difficult and serious problem of ranch life in the desert.

Next Hoyle led Carley down off the knoll to the wide cedar valley adjacent to the lake.  He was enthusiastic over its possibilities.  Two small corrals and a large one had been erected, the latter having a low flat barn connected with it.  Ground was already being cleared along the lake where alfalfa and hay were to be raised.  Carley saw the blue and yellow smoke from burning brush, and the fragrant odor thrilled her.  Mexicans were chopping the cleared cedars into firewood for winter use.

The day was spent before she realized it.  At sunset the carpenters and mechanics left in two old Ford cars for town.  The Mexicans had a camp in the cedars, and the Hoyles had theirs at the spring under the knoll where Carley had camped with Glenn and the Hutters.  Carley watched the golden rosy sunset, and as the day ended she breathed deeply as if in unutterable relief.  Supper found her with appetite she had long since lost.  Twilight brought cold wind, the staccato bark of coyotes, the flicker of camp fires through the cedars.  She tried to embrace all her sensations, but they were so rapid and many that she failed.

The cold, clear, silent night brought back the charm of the desert.  How flaming white the stars!  The great spire-pointed peaks lifted cold pale-gray outlines up into the deep star-studded sky.  Carley walked a little to and fro, loath to go to her tent, though tired.  She wanted calm.  But instead of achieving calmness she grew more and more towards a strange state of exultation.

Westward, only a matter of twenty or thirty miles, lay the deep rent in the level desert—­Oak Creek Canyon.  If Glenn had been there this night would have been perfect, yet almost unendurable.  She was again grateful for his absence.  What a surprise she had in store for him!  And she imagined his face in its change of expression when she met him.  If only he never learned of her presence in Arizona until she made it known in person!  That she most longed for.  Chances were against