nt out
at this season when at any day the mountain trails might be neck high
in snow. There was nothing to do but wait till the spring.

Susan listened with lowered brows. It was heavy news. She did not
know how she had hoped till she heard that all hope must lie in
abeyance for at least six months. It was a long time to be patient.
She was selfishly desirous to have her anxieties at rest, for, as she
had told her husband, they were the only cloud on her happiness, and
she wanted that happiness complete. It was not necessary for her peace
to see David again. To know he was safe somewhere would have satisfied
her.

The fifth day after leaving the camp they sighted the pitted shores of
their own diggings. Sitting in the McMurdos' wagon they had speculated
gayly on Low's surprise. Susan, on the seat beside Glen, had been
joyously full of the anticipation of it, wondered what he would say,
and then fell to imagining it with closed lips and dancing eyes. When
the road reached the last concealing buttress she climbed down and
mounted beside Daddy John, whose wagon was some distance in advance.

"It's going to be a surprise for Low," she said in the voice of a
mischievous child. "You mustn't say anything. Let me tell him."

The old man, squinting sideways at her, gave his wry smile. It was
good to see his Missy this way again, in bloom like a refreshed flower.

"Look," she cried, as her husband's figure came into view kneeling by
the rocker. "There he is, and he doesn't see us. Stop!"

Courant heard their wheels and, turning, started to his feet and came
forward, the light in his face leaping to hers. She sprang down and
ran toward him, her arms out. Daddy John, slashing the wayside bushes
with his whip, looked reflectively at the bending twigs while the
embrace lasted. The McMurdos' curiosity was not restrained by any such
inconvenient delicacy. They peeped from under the wagon hood, grinning
appreciatively, Bella the while maintaining a silent fight with the
children, who struggled for an exit. None of them could hear what the
girl said, but they saw Courant suddenly look with a changed face, its
light extinguished, at the second wagon.

"He don't seem so terrible glad to see us," said Glen. "I guess he
wanted to keep the place for himself."

Bella noted the look and snorted.

"He's a cross-grained thing," she said; "I don't see what got into her
to marry him when she could have had David."

"