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〃Yes； both the rideand you；〃 flashed Carley； contrarily。 She knew he had meant the deep…walled canyon with its brooding solitude。
〃But I want you to love Arizona；〃 he said。
〃Glenn； I'm a faithful creature。 You should be glad of that。 I love New York。〃
〃Very well； then。 Arizona to New York；〃 he said； lightly brushing her cheek with his lips。 And swerving back into his saddle； he spurred his horse and called back over his shoulder： 〃That mustang and Flo have beaten me many a time。 Come on。〃
It was not so much his words as his tone and look that roused Carley。 Had he resented her loyalty to the city of her nativity？ Always there was a little rift in the lute。 Had his tone and look meant that Flo might catch him if Carley could not？ Absurd as the idea was； it spurred her to recklessness。 Her mustang did not need any more than to know she wanted him to run。 The road was of soft yellow earth flanked with green foliage and overspread by pines。 In a moment she was racing at a speed she had never before half attained on a horse。 Down the winding road Glenn's big steed sped； his head low； his stride tremendous； his action beautiful。 But Carley saw the distance between them diminishing。 Calico was overtaking the bay。 She cried out in the thrilling excitement of the moment。 Glenn saw her gaining and pressed his mount to greater speed。 Still he could not draw away from Calico。 Slowly the little mustang gained。 It seemed to Carley that riding him required no effort at all。 And at such fast pace； with the wind roaring in her ears； the walls of green vague and continuous in her sight； the sting of pine tips on cheek and neck； the yellow road streaming toward her； under her； there rose out of the depths of her； out of the tumult of her breast； a sense of glorious exultation。 She closed in on Glenn。 From the flying hoofs of his horse shot up showers of damp sand and gravel that covered Carley's riding habit and spattered in her face。 She had to hold up a hand before her eyes。 Perhaps this caused her to lose something of her confidence； or her swing in the saddle； for suddenly she realized she was not riding well。 The pace was too fast for her inexperience。 But nothing could have stopped her then。 No fear or awkwardness of hers should be allowed to hamper that thoroughbred mustang。 Carley felt that Calico understood the situation； or at least he knew he could catch and pass this big bay horse； and he intended to do it。 Carley was hard put to it to hang on and keep the flying sand from blinding her。
When Calico drew alongside the bay horse and brought Carley breast to breast with Glenn； and then inch by inch forged ahead of him； Carley pealed out an exultant cry。 Either it frightened Calico or inspired him； for he shot right ahead of Glenn's horse。 Then he lost the smooth； wonderful action。 He seemed hurtling through space at the expense of tremendous muscular action。 Carley could feel it。 She lost her equilibrium。 She seemed rushing through a blurred green and black aisle of the forest with a gale in her face。 Then； with a sharp jolt； a break； Calico plunged to the sand。 Carley felt herself propelled forward out of the saddle into the air； and down to strike with a sliding； stunning force that ended in sudden dark oblivion。
Upon recovering consciousness she first felt a sensation of oppression in her chest and a dull numbness of her whole body。 When she opened her eyes she saw Glenn bending over her； holding her head on his knee。 A wet； cold； reviving sensation evidently came from the handkerchief with which he was mopping her face。
〃Carley； you can't be hurtreally！〃 he was ejaculating； in eager hope。 〃It was some spill。 But you lit on the sand and slid。 You can't be hurt。〃
The look of his eyes； the tone of his voice； the feel of his hands were such that Carley chose for a moment to pretend to be very badly hurt indeed。 It was worth taking a header to get so much from Glenn Kilbourne。 But she believed she had suffered no more than a severe bruising and scraping。
〃Glenndear； 〃 she whispered； very low and very eloquently。 〃I thinkmy backis broken。 。 。 。 You'll be freesoon。〃
Glenn gave a terrible start and his face turned a deathly white。 He burst out with quavering； inarticulate speech。
Carley gazed up at him and then closed her eyes。 She could not look at him while carrying on such deceit。 Yet the sight of him and the feel of him then were inexpressibly blissful to her。 What she needed most was assurance of his love。 She had it。 Beyond doubt； beyond morbid fancy； the truth had proclaimed itself； filling her heart with joy。
Suddenly she flung her arms up around his neck。 〃OhGlenn！ It was too good a chance to miss！ 。 。 。 I'm not hurt a bit。〃
CHAPTER VII
The day came when Carley asked Mrs。 Hutter： 〃Will you please put up a nice lunch for Glenn and me？ I'm going to walk down to his farm where he's working； and surprise him。〃
〃That's a downright fine idea；〃 declared Mrs。 Hutter； and forthwith bustled away to comply with Carley's request。
So presently Carley found herself carrying a bountiful basket on her arm； faring forth on an adventure that both thrilled and depressed her。 Long before this hour something about Glenn's work had quickened her pulse and given rise to an inexplicable admiration。 That he was big and strong enough to do such labor made her proud； that he might want to go on doing it made her ponder and brood。
The morning resembled one of the rare Eastern days in June； when the air appeared flooded by rich thick amber light。 Only the sun here was hotter and the shade cooler。
Carley took to the trail below where West Fork emptied its golden…green waters into Oak Creek。 The red walls seemed to dream and wait under the blaze of the sun； the heat lay like a blanket over the still foliage； the birds were quiet； only the murmuring stream broke the silence of the canyon。 Never had Carley felt more the isolation and solitude of Oak Creek Canyon。 Far indeed from the madding crowd！ Only Carley's stubbornness kept her from acknowledging the sense of peace that enveloped her…that and the consciousness of her own discontent。 What would it be like to come to this canyon…to give up to its enchantments？ That； like many another disturbing thought； had to go unanswered； to be driven into the closed chambers of Carley's mind； there to germinate subconsciously； and stalk forth some day to overwhelm her。
The trail led along the creek； threading a maze of bowlders； passing into the shade of cottonwoods； and crossing sun…flecked patches of sand。 Carley's every step seemed to become slower。 Regrets were assailing her。 Long indeed had she overstayed her visit to the West。 She must not linger there indefinitely。 And mingled with misgiving was a surprise that she had not tired of Oak Creek。 In spite of all； and of the dislike she vaunted to herself； the truth stared at hershe was not tired。
The long…delayed visit to see Glenn working on his own farm must result in her talking to him about his work； and in a way not quite clear she regretted the necessity for it。 To disapprove of Glenn！ She received faint intimations of wavering； of uncertainty； of vague doubt。 But these were cried down by the dominant and habitable voice of her personality。
Presently through the shaded and shadowed breadth of the belt of forest she saw gleams of a sunlit clearing。 And crossing this space to the border of trees she peered forth； hoping to espy Glenn at his labors。 She saw an old shack； and irregular lines of rude fence built of poles of all sizes and shapes； and several plots of bare yellow ground； leading up toward the west side of the canyon wall。 Could this clearing be Glenn's farm？ Surely she had missed it or had not gone far enough。 This was not a farm； but a slash in the forested level of the canyon floor； bare and somehow hideous。 Dead trees were standing in the lots。 They had been ringed deeply at the base by an ax； to kill them； and so prevent their foliage from shading the soil。 Carley saw a long pile of rocks that evidently had been carried from the plowed ground。 There was no neatness； no regularity； although there was abundant evidence of toil。 To clear that rugged space； to fence it； and plow it； appeared at once to Carley an extremely strenuous and useless task。 Carley persuaded herself that this must be the plot of ground belonging to the herder Charley； and she was about to turn on down the creek when far up under the bluff she espied a man。 He was stalking along and bending down； stalking along and bending down。 She recognized Glenn。 He was planting something in the yellow soil。
Curiously Carley watched him； and did not allow her mind to become concerned with a somewhat painful swell of her heart。 What a stride he had！ How vigorous he looked； and earnest！ He was as intent upon this job as if he had been a rustic。 He might have been failing to do it well； but he most certainly was doing it conscientiously。 Once he had said to her that a man should never be judged by the result of his labors； but by the nature of his effort。 A man might strive with all his heart and strength； yet fall。 Carley watched him striding along and bending down； absorbed in his task； unmindful of the glaring hot sun； and somehow to her