Janet, being tired by her constrained position in viewing the work,--for she had not moved entirely round to his side of the supper,--straightened up and spent the interval in a new survey of the stars. It rested her neck. As on the previous nights it was clear and spacious. There were stars and stars. The biggest and brightest stood out in unison; in between them and hanging far off in space were so many others that all confusion seemed straightened out in the unity of the infinite. It was all very beautiful--heaven is not disorder, after all. And yet a coyote, complaining in the distance, seemed to set the world to a false note. Her mind seemed tangled in light as her eye, following the stars, was led along the devious invisible lines from one to another. She had a feeling as if she would like to look up the definition of "you" in the dictionary. When she came back to earth again, Jonas was sitting there awaiting her return. One would almost think he was waiting for an answer. Janet looked at her watch. It was twenty minutes after ten--but she did not know whether it was right or not. "I hope I have n't been keeping you up, Miss Janet," said Jonas. "Whenever your time comes to turn in, go right along. Don't consider me company." "Oh, it was n't that; I was just wondering what time it is. Do you suppose, Mr. Hicks, that he will have any difficulty finding that horse and getting it back here? I should think he would get lost." "How long has he been gone?" "A little over an hour." "Oh, that ain't bad. You can't lose Steve." "No, of course not. I thought it was longer." "What time is it?" "Twenty minutes after ten by my watch. But I don't really know what time it is." "Well, there ain't much use knowin'. Time is queer anyway on a prairie. Sometimes it takes a considerable while for it to go past. And then again, as the other fellow said, 'Time is shorter than it is long.' Maybe if you are sleepy you 'd better go to bed." "Well--I believe I will. I don't suppose I had better wait any longer. Will you find a place to sleep? Maybe you will want to use my slicker." "Oh, I 'm all right. I 'll just chase away these cattle and roll in under the wagon. And if you should hear me serrynadin' you with a horse-fiddle after a while, don't be scared. That's me snoring. I 'm what they call a sound sleeper." "Good-night, Mr. Hicks." "Same to you, Miss Janet." CHAPTER XI The sun, lifting his countenance above the horizon that morning, centred his whole attention upon a pair of polished brass-bound hubs. The rest of the scene, grass and flowers "in unrespective same," formed a mere background on the general plane of existence while the sun beamed upon the brass--delighted, no doubt, to find an affinity in this unexpected place.