Mr. McLean's hours were already various and successful. Even at the
wolf-dance, before he had wearied of its monotonous drumming and pageant,
his roving eye had rested upon a girl whose eyes he caught resting upon
him. A look, an approach, a word, and each was soon content with the
other. Then, when her duties called her to the post from him and the
stream's border, with a promise for next day he sought the hotel and
found the three gamblers anxious to make his acquaintance; for when a
cow-puncher has his pay many people will take an interest in him. The
three gamblers did not know that Mr. McLean could play cards. He left
them late in the evening fat with their money, and sought the tepees of
the Arapahoes. They lived across the road from the Shoshones, and among
their tents the boy remained until morning. He was here in church now,
keeping his promise to see the bishop with the girl of yesterday; and
while he gravely looked at the bishop, Miss Sabina Stone allowed his arm
to encircle her waist. No soldier had achieved this yet, but Lin was the
first cow-puncher she had seen, and he had given her the handkerchief
from round his neck.

The quiet air blew in through the windows and door, the pure, light
breath from the mountains; only, passing over their foot-hills it had
caught and carried the clear aroma of the sage-brush. This it brought
into church, and with this seemed also to float the peace and great
silence of the plains. The little melodeon in the corner, played by one
of the ladies at the post, had finished accompanying the hymn, and now it
prolonged a few closing chords while the bishop paused before his
address, resting his keen eyes on the people. He was dressed in a plain
suit of black with a narrow black tie. This was because the Union Pacific
Railroad, while it had delivered him correctly at Green River, had
despatched his robes towards Cheyenne.