away from its rim, and the two edges of the plain had flowed together
over it like a closing sea, covering without a sign or ripple the great
country which lay sunk beneath.

"A man might think he'd dreamed he'd saw that place," said Lin to the
foreman, and wheeled his horse to the edge again. "She's sure there,
though," he added, gazing down. For a moment his boy face grew
thoughtful. "Shucks!" said he then, abruptly, "where's any joy in money
that's comin' till it arrives? I have most forgot the feel o' spot-cash."

He turned his horse away from the far-winding vision of the river, and
took a sharp jog after the foreman, who had not been waiting for him.
Thus they crossed the eighteen miles of high plain, and came down to Fort
Washakie, in the valley of Little Wind, before the day was hot.

His roll of wages once jammed in his pocket like an old handkerchief,
young Lin precipitated himself out of the post-trader's store and away on
his horse up the stream among the Shoshone tepees to an unexpected
entertainment--a wolf-dance. He had meant to go and see what the new
waiter-girl at the hotel looked like, but put this off promptly to attend
the dance. This hospitality the Shoshone Indians were extending to some
visiting Ute friends, and the neighborhood was assembled to watch the
ring of painted naked savages.

The post-trader looked after the galloping Lin. "What's he quitting his
job for?" he asked the foreman.

"Same as most of 'em quit."

"Nothing?"