" Pete sighed heavily--then grinned. "Well, say
two thousand--jest like that! Then the lawyer says to git a education.
Wonder if I was to git a education what the professor would be tellin'
me to do next. Most like he'd be tellin' me to learn preachin' or
somethin'. Then if I was to git to be a preacher, I reckon all I could
do next would be to go to heaven. Shucks! Arizona's good enough for
me."
But Pete was not thinking of Arizona alone--of the desert, the hills
and the mesas, the canons and arroyos, the illimitable vistas and the
color and vigor of that land. Persistently there rose before his
vision the trim, young figure of a nurse who had wonderful gray
eyes . . . "I'm sure goin' loco," he told himself. "But I ain't so
loco that she's goin' to know it."
"I suppose you'll be hitting the trail over the hill right soon," said
Owen as he returned from the station and seated himself in one of the
ample chairs on the hotel veranda. "Have a cigar."
Pete shook his head.
"They're all right. That El Paso lawyer smokes 'em."
"They ought to be all right," asserted Pete.
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