itter flood
of wrath, sorrow, and self-pity. She bewailed Lucy, not only as a
vanished relative but as a necessary member of the McMurdo escort. And
doubts of Zavier's lawful intentions shook her from the abandon of her
grief, to furious invective against the red man of all places and
tribes whereso'er he be.

"The dirty French-Indian," she wailed, "to take her off where he knows
fast enough there's no way of marrying her."

Courant tried to console her by telling her there was a good chance of
the fugitives meeting a Catholic missionary, but that, instead of
assuaging, intensified her woe.

"A Catholic!" she cried, raising a drenched face from her apron. "And
ain't that just as bad? My parents and hers were decent Presbyterians.
Does their daughter have to stand up before a priest? Why don't you
say a Mormon elder at once?"

The McMurdos' condition of grief and rage was so violent, that the
doctor suggested following the runaways. Bella rose in glad assent to
this. Catch Lucy and bring her back! She was cheered at the thought
and shouted it to Glen, who had gone off in a sulky passion and stood
by his oxen swearing to himself and kicking their hoofs. The men
talked it over. They could lay off for a day and Courant, who knew the
trails, could lead the search party. He was much against it, and Daddy
John was with him. Too much time had been lost. Zavier was an
experienced mountain man and his horses were good. Besides, what was
the use of bringing them back? They'd chosen each other, they'd taken
their own course. It wasn't such a bad lookout for Lucy. Zavier was a
first-rate fellow and he'd treat her well. What was the sense of
interfering? Bella was furious, and shouted,

"The sense is to get her back here and keep her where it's civilized,
since she don't seem to know enough to keep there herself."

Daddy John, who had been listening, flashed out:

"It don't seem to me so d--d civilized to half kill her with work."

Then Bella wept and Glen swore, and the men had pulled up the picket
stakes, cinched their girths tight and started off in Indian file
toward the distant spurs of the hills.

Susan had said little. If it did not violate her conscience to keep
silent, it did to pretend a surprise that was not hers. She sat at her
tent door most of the day watching for the return of the search party.
She was getting supper when she looked up and saw them, gave a low
exclamation, and ran to the