“Blanco Diablo!” he cried, huskily.

He turned to see a huge white horse come thundering into the yard.  A wild, gaunt, terrible horse; indeed, the loved Blanco Diablo.  A bronzed, long-haired Indian bestrode him.  More white horses galloped into the yard, pounded to a halt, whistling home.  Belding saw a slim shadow of a girl who seemed all great black eyes.

Under the trees flashed Blanco Sol, as dazzling white, as beautiful as if he had never been lost in the desert.  He slid to a halt, then plunged and stamped.  His rider leaped, throwing the bridle.  Belding saw a powerful, spare, ragged man, with dark, gaunt face and eyes of flame.

Then Nell came running from the house, her golden hair flying, her hands outstretched, her face wonderful.

“Dick!  Dick!  Oh-h-h, Dick!” she cried.  Her voice seemed to quiver in Belding’s heart.

Belding’s eyes began to blur.  He was not sure he saw clearly.  Whose face was this now close before him—­a long thin, shrunken face, haggard, tragic in its semblance of torture, almost of death?  But the eyes were keen and kind.  Belding thought wildly that they proved he was not dreaming.

“I shore am glad to see you all,” said a well-remembered voice in a slow, cool drawl.

XVIII

REALITY AGAINST DREAMS

Ladd, Lash, Thorne, Mercedes, they were all held tight in Belding’s arms.  Then he ran to Blanco Diablo.  For once the great horse was gentle, quiet, glad.  He remembered this kindest of masters and reached for him with warm, wet muzzle.

Dick Gale was standing bowed over Nell’s slight form, almost hidden in his arms.  Belding hugged them both.  He was like a boy.  He saw Ben Chase and his son slip away under the trees, but the circumstances meant nothing to him then.

“Dick!  Dick!” he roared.  “Is it you?...Say, who do you think’s here—­here, in Forlorn River?”

Gale gripped Belding with a hand as rough and hard as a file and as strong as a vise.  But he did not speak a word.  Belding thought Gale’s eyes would haunt him forever.

It was then three more persons came upon the scene—­Elsie Gale, running swiftly, her father assisting Mrs. Gale, who appeared about to faint.

“Belding!  Who on earth’s that?” cried Dick Hoarsely.

“Quien sabe, my son,” replied Belding; and now his voice seemed a little shaky.  “Nell, come here.  Give him a chance.”

Belding slipped his arm round Nell, and whispered in her ear.  “This ’ll be great!”

Elsie Gale’s face was white and agitated, a face expressing extreme joy.

“Oh, brother!  Mama saw you—­Papa saw you, and never knew you!  But I knew you when you jumped quick—­that way—­off your horse.  And now I don’t know you.  You wild man!  You giant!  You splendid barbarian!...Mama, Papa, hurry!  It is Dick!  Look at him.  Just look at him!  Oh-h, thank God!”