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failed menor love。 It is no longer a mystery。 Unhappiness is only a change。 Happiness itself is only change。 So what does it matter？ The great thing is to see lifeto understandto feelto workto fightto endure。 It is not my fault I am here。 But it is my fault if I leave this strange old earth the poorer for my failure。 。 。 。 I will no longer be little。 I will find strength。 I will endure。 。 。 。 I still have eyes； ears； nose； taste。 I can feel the sun； the wind； the nip of frost。 Must I slink like a craven because I've lost the love of one man？ Must I hate Flo Hutter because she will make Glenn happy？ Never！ 。。。 All of this seems better so； because through it I am changed。 I might have lived on； a selfish clod！〃
Carley turned from the mountain kingdom and faced her future with the profound and sad and far…seeing look that had come with her lesson。 She knew what to give。 Sometime and somewhere there would be recompense。 She would hide her wound in the faith that time would heat it。 And the ordeal she set herself； to prove her sincerity and strength； was to ride down to Oak Creek Canyon。
Carley did not wait many days。 Strange how the old vanity held her back until something of the havoc in her face should be gone！
One morning she set out early； riding her best horse； and she took a sheep trail across country。 The distance by road was much farther。 The June morning was cool； sparkling； fragrant。 Mocking birds sang from the topmost twig of cedars； doves cooed in the pines； sparrow hawks sailed low over the open grassy patches。 Desert primroses showed their rounded pink clusters in sunny places； and here and there burned the carmine of Indian paint…brush。 Jack rabbits and cotton…tails bounded and scampered away through the sage。 The desert had life and color and movement this June day。 And as always there was the dry fragrance on the air。
Her mustang had been inured to long and consistent travel over the desert。 Her weight was nothing to him and he kept to the swinging lope for miles。 As she approached Oak Creek Canyon； however； she drew him to a trot； and then a walk。 Sight of the deep red…walled and green…floored canyon was a shock to her。
The trail came out on the road that led to Ryan's sheep camp； at a point several miles west of the cabin where Carley had encountered Haze Ruff。 She remembered the curves and stretches； and especially the steep jump…off where the road led down off the rim into the canyon。 Here she dismounted and walked。 From the foot of this descent she knew every rod of the way would be familiar to her； and； womanlike； she wanted to turn away and fly from them。 But she kept on and mounted again at level ground。
The murmur of the creek suddenly assailed her earssweet； sad； memorable； strangely powerful to hurt。 Yet the sound seemed of long ago。 Down here summer had advanced。 Rich thick foliage overspread the winding road of sand。 Then out of the shade she passed into the sunnier regions of isolated pines。 Along here she had raced Calico with Glenn's bay； and here she had caught him； and there was the place she had fallen。 She halted a moment under the pine tree where Glenn had held her in his arms。 Tears dimmed her eyes。 If only she had known then the truth； the reality！ But regrets were useless。
By and by a craggy red wall loomed above the trees； and its pipe…organ conformation was familiar to Carley。 She left the road and turned to go down to the creek。 Sycamores and maples and great bowlders； and mossy ledges overhanging the water； and a huge sentinel pine marked the spot where she and Glenn had eaten their lunch that last day。 Her mustang splashed into the clear water and halted to drink。 Beyond； through the trees； Carley saw the sunny red…earthed clearing that was Glenn's farm。 She looked； and fought herself； and bit her quivering lip until she tasted blood。 Then she rode out into the open。
The whole west side of the canyon had been cleared and cultivated and plowed。 But she gazed no farther。 She did not want to see the spot where she had given Glenn his ring and had parted from him。 She rode on。 If she could pass West Fork she believed her courage would rise to the completion of this ordeal。 Places were what she feared。 Places that she had loved while blindly believing she hated！ There the narrow gap of green and blue split the looming red wall。 She was looking into West Fork。 Up there stood the cabin。 How fierce a pang rent her breast！ She faltered at the crossing of the branch stream； and almost surrendered。 The water murmured； the leaves rustled； the bees hummed； the birds sangall with some sad sweetness that seemed of the past。
Then the trail leading up West Fork was like a barrier。 She saw horse tracks in it。 Next she descried boot tracks the shape of which was so well…remembered that it shook her heart。 There were fresh tracks in the sand； pointing in the direction of the Lodge。 Ah！ that was where Glenn lived now。 Carley strained at her will to keep it fighting her memory。 The glory and the dream were gone！
A touch of spur urged her mustang into a gallop。 The splashing ford of the creekthe still； eddying pool beyondthe green orchardsthe white lacy waterfalland Lolomi Lodge！
Nothing had altered。 But Carley seemed returning after many years。 Slowly she dismountedslowly she climbed the porch steps。 Was there no one at home？ Yet the vacant doorway； the silencesomething attested to the knowledge of Carley's presence。 Then suddenly Mrs。 Hutter fluttered out with Flo behind her。
〃You dear girlI'm so glad！〃 cried Mrs。 Hutter； her voice trembling。
〃I'm glad to see you； too；〃 said Carley； bending to receive Mrs。 Hutter's embrace。 Carley saw dim eyesthe stress of agitation； but no surprise。
〃Oh； Carley！〃 burst out the Western girl； with voice rich and full； yet tremulous。
〃Flo； I've come to wish you happiness；〃 replied Carley； very low。
Was it the same Flo？ This seemed more of a womanstrange nowwhite and strainedbeautiful； eager； questioning。 A cry of gladness burst from her。 Carley felt herself enveloped in strong close clasp…and then a warm； quick kiss of joy； It shocked her； yet somehow thrilled。 Sure was the welcome here。 Sure was the strained situation； also； but the voice rang too glad a note for Carley。 It touched her deeply； yet she could not understand。 She had not measured the depth of Western friendship。
〃Have youseen Glenn？〃 queried Flo； breathlessly。
〃Oh no； indeed not；〃 replied Carley； slowly gaining composure。 The nervous agitation of these women had stilled her own。 〃I just rode up the trail。 Where is he？〃
〃He was herea moment ago；〃 panted Flo。 〃Oh； Carley； we sure are locoed。 。 。 。 Why； we only heard an hour agothat you were at Deep Lake。 。 。 。 Charley rode in。 He told us。 。 。 。 I thought my heart would break。 Poor Glenn！ When he heard it。 。 。 。 But never mind me。 Jump your horse and run to West Fork！〃
The spirit of her was like the strength of her arms as she hurried Carley across the porch and shoved her down the steps。
〃Climb on and run； Carley；〃 cried Flo。 〃If you only knew how glad he'll be that you came！〃
Carley leaped into the saddle and wheeled the mustang。 But she had no answer for the girl's singular； almost wild exultance。