“Yes; it puts you out of the chance of drawing any agricultural land, throws you into the grazing and mineral,” said he.
“Unless there are a great many lapses,” she suggested.
“There will be hundreds, in my opinion,” he declared. “But in case there are not enough to bring you 93 down to the claim worth having–one upon which you could plant trees and roses and such things?”
“I’ll stick to it anyhow,” said she determinedly.
“So this is going to be home?” he asked.
“Home,” she answered with a caressing touch upon the word. “I came here to make it; I sha’n’t go away without it. I don’t know just how long it will take me, nor how hard it will be, but I’m going to collect interest on my hopes from this country before I turn my back.”
“You seem to believe in it,” said he.
“Perhaps I believe more in myself,” she answered thoughtfully. “Have you determined what you are going to do?”
He laughed–a short, harsh expression of ironical bitterness.
“I’ve gone through the mill today of heat and cold,” said he. “First, I was going to sell my relinquishment for ten thousand dollars as soon as the law would allow, but by noon I had come down to five hundred. After that I took up the notion of sheep stronger than Milo, from Iowa, ever thought of it. It took just one more extra to put that fire out, and now the ashes of it aren’t even warm. Just what my next phantasy will be I can’t say.”