I look for the worst," replied Anderson, regretfully.
"It looks like storm-clouds over there," said Lenore, pointing far ahead.
Through the drifting veils of heat, far across the bare, dreamy hills of fallow and the blasted fields of wheat, stood up some huge white columnar clouds, a vivid contrast to the coppery sky.
"By George! there's a thunderhead!" exclaimed Anderson.

"Jake, what do you make of that ?" "Looks good to me," replied Jake, who was always hopeful.
Lenore bore the hot wind and the fine, choking dust without covering her face.

She wanted to see all the hills and valleys of this desert of wheat.

Her heart beat a little faster as, looking across that waste on waste of heroic labor, she realized she was nearing the end of a ride that might be momentous for her.

The very aspect of that wide, treeless expanse, with all its overwhelming meaning, seemed to make her a stronger and more thoughtful girl.