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Updated: June 4, 2025
Your real home is in the mountains just as you said you really live among the glowing peaks, under the dark pines, on the ridges, and in the purple shadows of the canyons. You only come down here to the Fairlands folk with a message from your mountains and we call your message music. Your name is " She was leaning forward, her face glowing with eagerness. "What is my name?"
It was these peculiar and well-known advantages of Fairlands that led the young man of my story to select it as the starting point of his worthy ambition. And Fairlands is a good place for one so richly endowed with an inheritance that cannot be expressed in dollars to try his strength.
Without apparent cause or reason, they each oddly connected the troubled tone in the music with the stopping of the automobile from Fairlands Heights, that afternoon, at the gate of the little house next door the artist, because of Mrs.
Taine was giving a dinner at the house on Fairlands Heights, at which the artist was to meet some people who would be as she said useful to him. Eastern people they were; from the accredited center of art and literature; members of the inner circle of the elect. They happened to be spending the season on the Coast, and she had taken advantage of the opportunity to advance the painter's interests.
It was three days after the incidents just related when an automobile from Fairlands Heights stopped at the home of Aaron King and the novelist. Mrs. Taine, dressed in black and heavily veiled, went, alone, to the house, where Yee Kee appeared in answer to her ring. There was no one at home, the Chinaman said. He did not know where the artist was. He had gone off somewhere with Mr.
But you have made your picture say what you feel. That's what makes it so right, isn't it? They said in Fairlands that you were a great artist, and I understand why, now. It must be wonderful to put what you see and feel into a picture like that where nothing can ever change or spoil it." Aaron King laughed with boyish embarrassment. "Oh, but I'm not a great artist, you know.
From sundown until long after dark, they came straggling wearily back; their horses nearly exhausted, the riders beginning to fear that Sibyl would never be found alive. There was no further word from the Sheriff at Fairlands. Then suddenly, out of the blackness of the night, a rider from the other side of the Galenas arrived with the word that the girl's horse had been found.
"I can't make it out," he said. "The road is so dry and cut up with tracks, and the trail is so gravelly, that there are no clear signs at all. Come, we better get back to Carleton's, and start the boys out. When Milt returns from Fairlands he may know something."
I mean after you got within two or three miles of the mouth of the canyon?" "No," replied the other. "Why?" "A man on a horse passed the Station about seven o'clock, going down. Where did the Doctor pass you?" "He didn't pass me." "What?" said the Ranger, sharply. "No one passed me after I left Fairlands." "Hu-m-m.
"We will go around the head of Clear Creek, on the divide between this canyon and the Cold Water, to some peak in the Galenas from which we can see Fairlands; and where, with the field-glass, we can pick out some point at the upper end of Galena Valley, that we can both find later." "I understand." "When I get back to Fairlands, I will make a night trip in the 'auto' to that point, with supplies.
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