For answer Buck suddenly flung out a protecting arm.
"Say, you're sure getting mussed with that dirty litter," he said almost reproachfully. "See, your fixin's are right agin it. Say----"
Joan laughed outright at his look of profound concern.
"That doesn't matter a bit," she exclaimed. "I must get used to being 'mussed-up.' You see, I'm a farmer--now."
The other's concern promptly vanished. He loved to hear her laugh.
"You never farmed any?" he asked.
"Never." Joan shook her head in mock seriousness. "Isn't it desperate of me? No, I'm straight from a city."
Buck withdrew his gaze from her face and glanced out at the hills. But it was only for a moment. His eyes came back as though drawn by a magnet.
"Guess you'll likely find it dull here--after a city," he said at last. "Y' see, it's a heap quiet. It ain't quiet to me, but then I've never been to a city--unless you call Leeson Butte a city. Some folks feel lonesome among these big hills."
"I don't think I shall feel lonesome," Joan said quickly. "The peace and quiet of this big world is all I ask. I left the city to get away from--oh, from the bustle of it all! Yes, I want the rest and quiet of these hills more than anything else in the world."
The passionate longing in her words left Buck wondering. But he nodded sympathetically.
"I'd say you'd get it right here," he declared. Then he turned toward the great hills, and a subtle change seemed to come over his whole manner. His dark eyes wore a deep, far-away look in which shone a wonderfully tender affection. It was the face of a man who, perhaps for the first time, realizes the extent and depth of his love for the homeland which is his.
"It's big--big," he went on, half to himself. "It's so big it sometimes makes me wonder. Look at 'em," he cried, pointing out at the purpling distance, "rising step after step till it don't seem they can ever git bigger. An' between each step there's a sort of world different from any other. Each one's hidden all up, so pryin' eyes can't see into 'em. There's life in those worlds, all sorts of life. An' it's jest fightin', lovin', dyin', eatin', sleepin', same as everywhere else. There's a big story in 'em somewhere--a great big story. An' it's all about the game of life goin' on in there, jest the same as it does here, an' anywher'. Yes, it's a big story and hard to read for most of us. Guess we don't ever finish readin' it, anyway--until we die. Don't guess they intended us to. Don't guess it would be good for us to read it easy."