The good old customs--and certain bad old customs, too--still held on the Bar Cross Range, fifty miles by one hundred, on the Jornado.

Scattered here and there were smaller ranches: among them the V H--the Vorhis Ranch.
Stella Vorhis and John Wesley, far out on the plain, rode through the pleasant afternoon.

The V H.Ranch was in sight now, huddled low before them; beyond, a cluster of low hills rose from the plain, visible center of a world fresh, eager, and boundless.
The girl's eye kindled with delight as it sought the far horizons, the misty parapets gleaming up through the golden air; she was one who found dear and beautiful this gray land, silent and ensunned.

She flung up her hand exultingly.
"Isn't it wonderful, John Wesley?
Do you know what it makes me think of?
This: _"'...

Magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn!'_ "Think, John! This country hasn't changed a bit since the day Columbus set out from Spain." "How true! Fine old bird, Columbus--he saw America first.