THE DRIFT OF THE HERDS

Weeks slipped by, and to Thurston they seemed but days. His
world-weariness and cynicism disappeared the first time he met
Mona after he had left there so unceremoniously; for Mona, not
being aware of his cynicism, received him on the old, friendly
footing, and seemed to have quite forgotten that she had ever
called him a coward, or refused to marry him. So Thurston
forgot it also--so long as he was with her.

How he filled in the hours he could scarcely have told; certain
it is that he accomplished nothing at all so far as Western
stories were concerned. Reeve-Howard wrote in slightly shocked
phrases to ask what was keeping him so long; and assured him
that he was missing much by staying away. Thurston mentally
agreed with him long enough to begin packing his trunk; it was
idiotic to keep staying on when he was clearly receiving no
benefit thereby. When, however, he picked up a book which he
had told Mona he would take over to her the next time he went,
he stopped and considered:

There was the Wagner trial coming off in a month or so; he
couldn't get out of attending it, for he had been subpoenaed as
a witness for the prosecution. And there was the beef roundup
going to start before long--he really ought to stay and take
that in; there would be some fine chances for pictures. And
really he didn't care so much for the Barry Wilson bunch and the
long list of festivities which trailed ever in its wake; at any
rate, they weren't worth rushing two-thirds across the continent
for.