In this life it is the first failures which are most difficult to endure. Ralph Marshall had made so few efforts of any kind in his existence, that he was profoundly disturbed by this small one.
Moreover, Ralph was at last becoming affected by Mrs. Burton’s obvious nervousness. Perhaps a successful culmination of his quest was not so unimportant as he had previously conceived it. He had wished to accomplish what he had set out to do, because Mrs. Burton was uneasy and because he was anxious to do her a favor. Incidentally he was not averse to doing one for Peggy, should conditions develop in that way. But the question of Billy’s own welfare he had never taken seriously. Therefore, it was curious that he should find himself suddenly growing uncomfortable over the boy.
Well, as one must inevitably go somewhere in this world—either forward or backward—Ralph appreciated that he could not remain indefinitely at an entirely uninteresting and apparently uneventful railroad station.
So, following an impulse—not a purpose, or even an idea—he rode away from the station and into the country.
He continued riding the greater part of the day, feeling as absurd as any foolish follower of Don Quixote’s bent upon an impossible quest.
Nevertheless, Ralph did not give up. He was tired and bored and hungry, and frequently had to get off his pony in order to allow it to rest. He found food for his burro and a little for himself at a small ranch house, but only now and then did he came in contact with a human being.
Most of the country through which he traveled was pine forest. It was ridiculous to imagine that Billy Webster could have any interest or any purpose in this unfamiliar and comparatively uninhabited region. Yet Ralph could not make up his mind to return to Sunrise camp bringing back with him no Billy, no information—nothing but a confession of failure.
An hour before twilight, however, Ralph was forced to start for camp.
He carried a compass with him; indeed he had been using one ever since his arrival in Arizona, and had been wise enough to watch the route he had followed with great care. For the latter part of the afternoon he had been traveling in a homeward direction. But now, of course, he must push straight on without further loitering.
To spend the night in the woods was entirely feasible, but without covering it would not be agreeable and nothing would be accomplished by it.