He came near going to the other extreme and refusing to write at all.
The wagons were out two weeks--which is quite long enough for a crisis to arise in the love affair of any man.

By the time the horse roundup was over, one Philip Thurston was in pessimistic mood and quite ready to follow the wagons, the farther the better.

Also, they could not start too soon to please him.

His thoughts still ran to blue-gray eyes and ripply hair, but he made no attempt to put them into a story.
He packed his trunk carefully with everything he would not need on the roundup, and his typewriter he put in the middle.

He told himself bitterly that he had done with crimply haired girls, and with every other sort of girl.