He had shot a masked outlaw the very sight of whom had been ill omen to riders; he had carried off a wounded woman whose bloody lips quivered in prayer; he had nursed what seemed a frail, shrunken boy; and now he watched a girl whose face had become strangely sweet, whose dark-blue eyes were ever upon him without boldness, without shyness, but with a steady, grave, and growing light.

Many times Venters found the clear gaze embarrassing to him, yet, like wine, it had an exhilarating effect.

What did she think when she looked at him so?
Almost he believed she had no thought at all.

All about her and the present there in Surprise Valley, and the dim yet subtly impending future, fascinated Venters and made him thoughtful as all his lonely vigils in the sage had not.
Chiefly it was the present that he wished to dwell upon; but it was the call of the future which stirred him to action.

No idea had he of what that future had in store for Bess and him.