rmation, then foregathered with a thin individual
who had a humorous eye and was looking on from a corner. This stranger
introduced himself as a clergyman, returning from the East to Oregon by
way of California. They talked together. Daddy John finding his new
acquaintance a tolerant cheery person versed in the lore of the trail.
The man gave him many useful suggestions for the last lap of the
journey and he decided to go after Courant, to whom the route over the
Sierra was unknown ground.

The camps had sunk to silence, the women and children asleep. He
skirted their tents, bending his course to where he saw the hood of his
own wagon and the shadowy forms of Julia and her mates. The fire still
burned bright and on its farther side he could make out the figures of
Susan and Courant seated on the ground. They were quiet, the girl
sitting with her feet tucked under her, idly throwing scraps of sage on
the blaze. He was about to hail Courant when he saw him suddenly drop
to a reclining posture beside her, draw himself along the earth and
curl about her, his elbow on the ground, his head propped on a
sustaining hand. With the other he reached forward, caught Susan's and
drawing it toward him pressed it against his cheek. Daddy John watched
the sacrilegious act with starting eyes. He would have burst in upon
them had he not seen the girl's shy smile, and her body gently droop
forward till her lips rested on the mountain man's. When she drew back
the old servant came forward into the light. Its reflection hid his
pallor, but his heart was thumping like a hammer and his throat was
dry, for suddenly he understood. At his step Susan drew away from her
companion and looked at the advancing shape with eyes darkly soft as
those of an antelope.

"Where have you been?" she said. "You were a long time away."

"In the mud house," said Daddy John.

"Did you find anyone interesting there?"

"Yes. When I was talkin' with him I didn't know he was so powerful
interestin', but sence I come out o' there I've decided he was."

They both looked at him without much show of curiosity, merely, he
guessed, that they might not look at each other and reveal their secret.

"What was he?" asked Courant.

"A clergyman."

This time they both started, the girl into sudden erectness, then held
her head down as if in shame. For a sickened moment, he thought she
was afraid to look at her lover for fear of seeing refusal in his face.