If it held nothing but a half dozen ex-cow-punchers hopelessly tamed and turned farmers, why, there would probably be a train to carry him further in his quest.

He would drop down into Wyoming and Arizona and New Mexico,--just keep going till he did find the men he wanted.

That was Luck's way.
The shadows grew long and spread over the land until the whole vast country lay darkling under the coming night.

Luck went in and ate his dinner, and came back again to smoke and stare and dream.

There was a moon now that silvered the slopes and set wide expanses shimmering.
Luck, always more or less a dreamer, began to people the plain with the things that had been but were no more: with buffalo and with Indians who camped on the trail of the big herds.