The excitement,
the thrill, the difference felt in himself, experienced the preceding
night, had extended on into his present. And the possibilities
suggested by the conversation he had unwittingly overheard added
sufficiently to the other feelings to put him into a peculiarly receptive
state of mind. He was wild to be one of the Belding rangers. The idea
of riding a horse in the open desert, with a dangerous duty to
perform, seemed to strike him with an appealing force. Something
within him went out to the cowboys, to this blunt and kind Belding.
He was afraid to meet the girl. If every man who came along fell
in love with this sweet-voiced Nell, then what hope had he to
escape--now, when his whole inner awakening betokened a change of
spirit, hope, a finding of real worth, real good, real power in
himself? He did not understand wholly, yet he felt ready to ride,
to fight, to love the desert, to love these outdoor men, to love
a woman. That beautiful Spanish girl had spoken to something
dead in him and it had quickened to life. The sweet voice of an
audacious, unseen girl warned him that presently a still more
wonderful thing would happen to him.
Gale imagined he made noise enough as he clumsily pulled on his
boots, yet the voices, split by a merry laugh, kept on murmuring
outside the door. It was awkward for him, having only one hand
available to lace up his boots. He looked out of the window.
Evidently this was at the end of the house.
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