In this beautiful valley he had been living a
beautiful dream. Tranquillity had come to him, and the joy of
solitude, and interest in all the wild creatures and crannies of
this incomparable valley--and love. Under the shadow of the great
stone bridge God had revealed Himself to Venters.
"The world seems very far away," he muttered, "but it's
there--and I'm not yet done with it. Perhaps I never shall
be....Only--how glorious it would be to live here always and
never think again!"
Whereupon the resurging reality of the present, as if in irony of
his wish, steeped him instantly in contending thought. Out of it
all he presently evolved these things: he must go to Cottonwoods;
he must bring supplies back to Surprise Valley; he must cultivate
the soil and raise corn and stock, and, most imperative of all,
he must decide the future of the girl who loved him and whom he
loved. The first of these things required tremendous effort, the
last one, concerning Bess, seemed simply and naturally easy of
accomplishment. He would marry her. Suddenly, as from roots of
poisonous fire, flamed up the forgotten truth concerning her. It
seemed to wither and shrivel up all his joy on its hot, tearing
way to his heart. She had been Oldring's Masked Rider. To
Venters's question, "What were you to Oldring?" she had answered
with scarlet shame and drooping head.
"What do I care who she is or what she was!" he cried,
passionately.
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