"What time is it, Webb?" asked his wife. scarcely less excited.
He had to look again, so absent-minded had been his last glance
at the watch. "Nine-fifteen. Why didn't I telephone to Rogers and
ask him to find out which way they were coming? Sometimes I'm
mighty thick-headed."
As Mackenzie had guessed, the party was winding its way through
the Box Canyon at that time of speaking. Bucky and Frances led
the way, followed by Henderson and the vaquero whom Mackenzie had
telephoned to guide them from Aravaipa.
"I reckon this night was made for us, Curly Haid. Even good old
Arizona never turned out such a one before. I expect it was
ordered for us ever since it was decided we belonged to each
other. That may have been thousands of years ago." Bucky laughed,
to relieve the tension, and looked up at the milky way above.
"We're like those stars, honey. All our lives we have been
drifting around, but all the time it had been decided by the
God-of-things-as-they-are that our orbits were going to run
together and gravitate into the same one when the right time
came. It has come now."
"Yes, Bucky," she answered softly.
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