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"You see, Carley, this is our America," said Flo, softly

Carley had never understood theat her What her vision beheld, so far-reaching

and boundless, was only a dot on the map

"Does any one live--out there?" she asked, with sloeep of hand

"A fehite traders and some Indian tribes," replied Stanton "But you

can ride all day an' next day an' never see a livin' soul"

What was the ratification in his voice? Did Westerners

court loneliness? Carley wrenched her gaze from the desert void to look

at her companions Stanton's eyes were narrowed; his expression had

changed; lean and hard and still, his face reseone, as was the heated flush of his quarrel with

Flo The girl, too, had subtly changed, had responded to an influence

that had subdued and softened her She was ; she was beautiful then For Carley,

quick to read e, steadfast soul that

spiritualized the brown freckled face

Carley wheeled to gaze out and down into this incohts, white and red and yellow, and so

on to the wonderful nation of rasped by Carley She could not