So, as he rode, the pictures of her failed
to hold him, and, finally, his roving gaze became caught and held by a
sudden and striking anachronism in the scene about him.
He claimed Bud's attention with a gesture which roused him from his
engrossing thought.
"Fire," he observed.
Bud's gaze became rivetted on the spot.
"Yes, it's fire--sure," he admitted.
It was a long way ahead. Only the trained eyes of prairiemen could
have read the sign aright at such a distance. It was a break in the
wonderful sea of varying shades of restful green. It was, to them, an
ominous dead black patch which broke the sky-line with unmistakable
skeleton arms.
It was the only remark upon the subject which passed between them, but
as they rode on it occupied something more than a passing attention.
With Jeff his interest was mere curiosity. With Bud it was deeper and
more significant. Had the younger man observed him he might have
discovered a curious expression almost amounting to pain in the deep
eyes which contemplated the blackened limbs where the fire had wrought
its havoc.
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