"There is so little good in talking about what a person feels," she was

saying; "that I'm not going to try." Yes, the little break in the voice

was something he had heard but once in his life before; yet nothing

could have been less like his mother than the expressive young face

bending toward him.

The great half-civilized boy took one look at the face, and all his

self-consciousness vanished.

"I guess anybody 'd like to do you a good turn!" he declared boldly, as

he loosed the small gloved hand from the big clutch he had given it. The

charming face flushed as warmly as if it had never been complimented

before.

"Are you going to stay in Springtown?" its owner asked.

"I'm going to the college," the young geologist answered proudly.

"Then you'd better let us have your pack," said Dayton. "We can do that

much for you! There's lots of room in back here."

Waldo hesitated; he was used to carrying his own burdens. But Dayton

had hold of the pack, and it seemed to find its own way into the buggy.

"There! That will ride nicely," said Dayton. "Now I suppose we may call

ourselves quits?" and he glanced quizzically at the boy who had clearly

missed the amiable satire of the suggestion.

The two walked on together for some time, keeping close beside the

buggy. The horses were perfectly docile now that no one seemed disposed

to fly at their heads. Waldo began to feel that he had really been

needlessly violent with them in that first encounter. He pulled out his

hat and put it on again.

They had come to the narrowest and most stupendous part of the pass, and

Waldo, now wonderfully at his ease, had broached the subject of the

Notch. He was astonished to find how conversible these new acquaintances

were. They proved much easier to talk with than his ranch neighbors whom

he had known all his life. And, better still, they knew a surprising lot

about minerals and flowers and things of that sort, that were but sticks

and stones to his small world at home.

When, at last, these very remarkable and well-informed people drove

away, and he watched their buggy disappearing down the pass, he found

himself possessed of a new and inspiring faith in the approachableness

of the great world he was about to confront. He had rather expected to

deal with it with hammer and pick,--to wrest the gold of experience from

the hardest and flintiest bedrock; and all at once he felt as if he had

struck a great "placer" with nuggets of the most agreeable description

lying about, ready to his hand!

As he reflected upon these things, the pass was opening out into a

curious, cup-shaped valley, crowded with huge hotels and diminutive

cottages of more or less fantastic architecture, clustering in the

valley, climbing the hills, perching on jutting rocks and overhanging

terraces. Waldo knew the secret of this startling outcrop of human

enterprise. He knew that here, in this populous nook, were hidden

springs of mineral waters, bubbling and sparkling up from the caverns of

the earth. He found his way to one of the springs, where he took a long,

deep draught of the tingling elixir, speculating the while, as to its

nature and source. Then on he went, refreshed and exhilarated.

A few miles of dusty highway brought him at last within the borders of

classic Springtown, classic in its significance to him, as the

elm-embowered shades of Cambridge or New Haven to the New England boy at

home. As he entered upon the broad Western Avenue, the declining sun had

nearly touched the great Peak, its long, level rays striking a perfect

glory across the boughs of the cottonwood trees shining in the height of

their yellow autumn splendor. They arched the walk he trod, and

stretched to the northward, a marvellous golden vista, as brilliant as

the promise of the future itself. There were fine residences on either

side of the avenue, finer than anything the ranch boy had ever dreamed

of, while off to the west stretched the line of mountains, transfigured

in the warm afternoon light. But all the boy could see or think of was

that golden vista, stretching before him to the very portals of the

house of learning.

And presently, along this glorified path, a man approached, and as the

two came face to face, he stopped before the boy and called him by

name.

[Illustration: A GOLDEN VISTA.]

The whole situation was so wonderful,--so magical it seemed to Waldo in

the exaltation of the moment,--that he did not pause to consider how his

name should be known to a chance passer-by; and when the stranger went

on to give his own name, and it was the name of the college president,

the boy accepted the fact that dreams come true, and only held his head

a little higher and trod the path a little more firmly, as he walked

beside the president under the yellow cottonwoods.

"I came out to meet you," the president was saying, in a big, friendly

voice. "I heard you were coming, and I thought we might talk things over

a bit on the way."

They chatted a little of the boy's plans and resources, of the classes

he was to enter, and of what he might accomplish in his college course;

and then they came out from under the trees, and found themselves upon

the college campus. A game of football was going on there, the figures

of the players fairly irradiated in the golden light which fell aslant

the great open space, touching the scant yellowish grass into a play of

shimmering color. They stood a moment, while the president pointed out

to Waldo the different college buildings. Then:--

"I have something pleasant to tell you," his companion remarked, with a

glance at the strong eager face of the boy. "The college has just had

the gift of a scholarship."

"I'm glad of that," said Waldo, heartily, finding a cheerful omen in

the fact that the day was an auspicious one for others beside himself.

"The gift is a sort of thank-offering," he heard his new friend say;

"from a man who fell in with _you_--up in the pass this afternoon!"

The boy's face went crimson at the words, but he only fixed his eyes the

more intently upon the football players, as if his destiny had depended

upon the outcome of the game.

"The scholarship is the largest we have;"--he heard the words

distinctly, but they struck him as coming from quite a long distance.

"It is to be called--_the Waldo Kean Scholarship!_"

The Waldo Kean Scholarship! How well that sounded! What a good,

convincing ring it had, as if it had been intended from the very

beginning of things!

He stood silent a moment, pondering it, while the president waited for

him to speak; and as he watched the field the football players seemed to

mingle and vanish from sight like shadows in a dream, while in their

place a certain tall angular form stood out, loose-jointed, somewhat

bent, yet full of character and power. All the splendor of the setting

sun centred upon that rugged vision, that yet did not bate one jot of

its homely reality.

And the boy, lifting his head with a proud gesture, and with a

straightening of the whole figure, looked the president in the face and

said: "_That is my father's name!_"

They started to cross the campus, where the football players were once

more in possession. The sun had dropped behind the Peak, and the glory

was fading from the face of the earth; but to Waldo Kean, walking side

by side with the college president, the world was alight with the rays

of a sun whose setting was yet a long way off; and the golden vista he

beheld before him was nothing less than the splendid illimitable

future,--the future of the New West, which was to be his by right of

conquest!

THE END.

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Peak and Prairie From a Colorado Sketch-book · 第 18 / 18 段