King extended his hand and leaned towards her. The horses moved closer together in instinct born of training at the hands of practised riders, and King's arm went about Cherry as he drew her close to him.
He seemed about to speak, but kissed her instead.
The next moment they were off at a brisk run along a stretch of open trail.
It was not yet six o'clock when the trail took them out upon the right-of-way a scant half mile from where Keith McBain's men were still at work on the grade. King drew his horse in and stood for some time gazing down the open right-of-way towards the workers, and then turned to look behind him, where the grade stretched far into the distance and was lost in the closing perspective.
"I like this," he said to Cherry, who had drawn rein beside him. "There's something about it all that makes a man glad he has lived and taken some little part in it. If we could see the world in the making—I think it would be something like this."
He stretched out his arm and swept it about him as he spoke.
Cherry looked into his face, in contemplation, not so much of what he was saying but rather of what she saw in his eyes. All that made him a man—all that made him the man she loved—all that made him the man that men loved—was there in the simple gravity and the deep seriousness of his face.
A few moments later they rode down among the men to where Keith McBain was standing alone smoking his pipe and watching a line of teamsters swinging about, an endless chain of "slushers" moving the earth from the side of the right-of-way to the grade in the middle. They were met on all sides by greetings from the men, who paused in their work to give them a welcome.
When they came to Keith McBain, Cherry sprang to the ground and kissed her father, and King, swinging down from the saddle, came forward and shook hands with the old contractor. In Keith McBain's eyes there was a light as of returning youth. The smile on his face was the smile of a man who had found the world a good place to live in, after all, and wants nothing more than to be left to do his work and fill his remaining days with achievement.
There was almost a half hour still left before six o'clock, but Cherry went close to her father and patted his cheeks with her two hands.