guide. Even Kit Carson, who
conducted the General Fremont, is no better."

The general satisfaction did not extend to Susan. The faint thrill of
antagonism that the man had roused in her persisted. She knew he was a
gain to the party, and said nothing. She was growing rapidly in this
new, toughening life, and could set her own small prejudices aside in
the wider view that each day's experience was teaching her. The
presence of such a man would lighten the burden of work and
responsibility that lay on her father, and whatever was beneficial to
the doctor was accepted by his daughter. But she did not like Low
Courant. Had anyone asked her why she could have given no reason. He
took little notice of any of the women, treating them alike with a
brusque indifference that was not discourteous, but seemed to lump them
as necessary but useless units in an important whole.

The train was the focus of his interest. The acceleration of its
speed, the condition of the cattle, the combination of lightness and
completeness in its make-up were the matters that occupied him. In the
evening hour of rest these were the subjects he talked of, and she
noticed that Daddy John was the person to whom he talked most. With
averted eyes, her head bent to David's murmurings, she was really
listening to the older men. Her admiration was reluctantly evoked by
the stranger's dominance and vigor of will, his devotion to the work he
had undertaken. She felt her own insignificance and David's also, and
chafed under the unfamiliar sensation.

The night after leaving Ash Hollow, as they sat by the fire, David at
her side, the doctor had told Courant of the betrothal. His glance
passed quickly over the two conscious faces, he gave a short nod of
comprehension, and turning to Daddy John, inquired about the condition
of the mules' shoes. Susan reddened. She saw something of
disparagement, of the slightest gleam of mockery, in that short look,
which touched both faces and then turned from them as from the faces of
children playing at a game. Yes, she disliked him, disliked his manner
to Lucy and herself, which set them aside as beings of a lower order,
that had to go with them and be taken care of like the stock, only much
less important and necessary. Even to Bella he was off-hand and
unsympathetic, unmoved by her weakness, as he had been by her
sufferings the night he came. Susan had an idea that he thought
Bella's illness a misfortun