"Overland—Mr. Summers—doesn't take life very seriously, does he?" asked Louise.
"Not as seriously as life has taken him, at odd times."
"You brought Collie in your car, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Yes. But he's pretty shaky yet. He's a little queer, in fact. As we came up the cañon he asked me to stop the car by the cliff, near this end,—that place where the sunlight comes through a kind of notch in the west. I thought he was tired of the motion of the car, so we stopped and he lay back looking at the cliff. Pretty soon the sun shot a long ray past us and it fairly splattered gold on the cañon wall. Then the shaft of sunlight went out. 'It will shine again,' he said, as if I didn't know that. Collie's a pretty sick man."
Later Winthrop and Louise joined the others at the veranda. Louise excused herself. She searched a long time before she found another rose. This time it was a Colombe bud, full, red, and beautiful. She stepped to Collie's window. "Boy!" she called softly.
White and trembling, he stood in the long window looking down at her. "I'm glad you are home again," she said.
He nodded, and glanced away.
"Boy!" she called again. "Catch." And she tossed the rose. He caught it and pressed it to his lips.