He tramped out, followed by the tall cowboys, and then Dick was enabled to bring his letter to a close.  Mercedes came back, and her eyes were shining.  Dick imagined a letter received from her would be something of an event for a fellow.  Then, remembering Belding’s suggestion, he decided to profit by it.

“May I trouble you to write another for me?” asked Dick, as he received the letter from Nell.

“It’s no trouble, I’m sure—­I’d be pleased,” she replied.

That was altogether a wonderful speech of hers, Dick thought, because the words were the first coherent ones she had spoken to him.

“May I stay?” asked Mercedes, smiling.

“By all means,” he answered, and then he settled back and began.

Presently Gale paused, partly because of genuine emotion, and stole a look from under his hand at Nell.  She wrote swiftly, and her downcast face seemed to be softer in its expression of sweetness.  If she had in the very least been drawn to him—­ But that was absurd—­impossible!

When Dick finished dictating, his eyes were upon Mercedes, who sat smiling curious and sympathetic.  How responsive she was!  He heard the hasty scratch of Nell’s pen.  He looked at Nell.  Presently she rose, holding out his letter.  He was just in time to see a wave of red recede from her face.  She gave him one swift gaze, unconscious, searching, then averted it and turned away.  She left the room with Mercedes before he could express his thanks.

But that strange, speaking flash of eyes remained to haunt and torment Gale.  It was indescribably sweet, and provocative of thoughts that he believed were wild without warrant.  Something within him danced for very joy, and the next instant he was conscious of wistful doubt, a gravity that he could not understand.  It dawned upon him that for the brief instant when Nell had met his gaze she had lost her shyness.  It was a woman’s questioning eyes that had pierced through him.

During the rest of the day Gale was content to lie still on his bed thinking and dreaming, dozing at intervals, and watching the lights change upon the mountain peaks, feeling the warm, fragrant desert wind that blew in upon him.  He seemed to have lost the faculty of estimating time.  A long while, strong in its effect upon him, appeared to have passed since he had met Thorne.  He accepted things as he felt them, and repudiated his intelligence.  His old inquisitive habit of mind returned.  Did he love Nell?  Was he only attracted for the moment?  What was the use of worrying about her or himself?  He refused to answer, and deliberately gave himself up to dreams of her sweet face and of that last dark-blue glance.