young Charlie Merchant relax to a flickering smile as the girl beside
him caught his arm and spoke to him.

And then Andy saw her for the first time.

In the brief instant as the machine moved by, he printed the picture to
be seen again when she was gone. What was the hair? Red bronze, and
fiery where the sun caught at it, and the eyes were gray, or blue, or a
gray-green. But colors did not matter. It was all in her smile and the
turning of her eyes, which were very wide open. She spoke, and it was in
the sound of her voice. "Wait!" shouted Andy Lanning as he made a step
toward them. But the car went on, rocking over the bumps and the exhaust
roaring. Andy became aware that his shout had been only a dry whisper.
Besides, what would he say if they did stop?

And then the girl turned sharply about and looked back, not at the horse
they had so nearly struck, but at Andy standing in the door of his shop.
He felt sure that she would remember his face; her smile had gone out
while she stared, and now she turned her head suddenly to the front.
Once more the sun flashed on her hair; then the machine disappeared. In
a moment even the roar of the engine was lost, but it came back again,
flung in echoes from some hillside.

Not until all was silent, and the boys from the saloon were shaking
hands with Pat and laughing at him, did Andy turn back into the
blacksmith shop. He sat down on the anvil with his heart beating, and
began to recall the picture. Yes, it was all in the smile and the glint
of the eyes. And something else--how should he say it?--of the light
shining through her.