For the rest of the way Thurston watched the green hills slide by-and the greener hollows-andgave himself up to visions of Fort Benton; visions of creaking bull-trains crawling slowly, like giantbrown worms, up and down the long hill; of many high-piled bales of buffalo hides upon the riverbank, and clamorous little steamers churning up against the current; the Fort Benton that had, formany rushing miles, filled and colored the speech of Hank Graves and stimulated his childish halfmemory.But when he reached the place and wandered aimlessly about the streets, the vision faded intohalf-resentful realization that these things were no more forever. For the bull-trains, a roundupoutfit clattered noisily out of town and disappeared in an elusive dust-cloud; for the gay-blanketedIndians slipping like painted shadows from view, stray cow-boys galloped into town, slid from theirsaddles and clanked with dragging rowels into the nearest saloon, or the post-office. Between whilesthe town cuddled luxuriously down in the deep little valley and slept while the river, undisturbed bypompous steamers, murmured a lullaby.It was not the Fort Benton he had come far to see, so that on the second day he went away up thelong hill that shut out the world and, until the east-bound train came from over the prairies, pacedthe depot platform impatiently with never a vision to keep him company.For a long time the gaze of Thurston clung fascinated to the wide prairie land, feeling again thestir in his blood. Then, when a deep cut shut from him the sight of the wilderness, he chanced toturn his head, and looked straight into the clear, blue-gray eyes of a girl across the aisle. Thurstonconsidered himself immune from blue-gray-or any other-eyes, so that he permitted himself toregard her calmly and judicially, his mind reverting to the fact that he would need a heroine to bekidnapped, and wondering if she would do. She was a Western girl, he could tell that by the tan andby her various little departures from the Eastern styles-such as doing her hair low rather than high.Where he had been used to seeing the hair of woman piled high and skewered with many pins, herswas brushed smoothly back-smoothly save for little, irresponsible waves here and there. Thurstondecided that the style was becoming to her. He wondered if the fellow beside her were her brother;and then reminded himself sagely that brothers do not, as a rule, devote their time quite soassiduously to the entertainment of their sisters. He could not stare at her forever, and so he gaveover his speculations and went back to the prairies.