When he heard her
move his quietness increased to a trancelike suspension of movement,
the inner concentration holding every muscle in spellbound rigidness.
Suddenly she tore the calico with a keen, rending noise, and it was as
if her hands had seized upon and so torn the tension that held him.
His fists clinched on the gun barrel, and for a moment the mountain
line undulated to his gaze. Had they been alone, speech would have
burst from him, but the presence of the old man kept him silent. He
bowed his head over the gun, making a pretense of giving it a last
inspection, then, surer of himself, leaped to his feet and said gruffly:
"Let's move on. There's no good waiting here."
The other two demurred. Susan rose and walked into the glare sweeping
the way David had gone. Against the pale background she stood out a
vital figure, made up of glowing tints that reached their brightest
note in the heated rose of her cheeks and lips. Her dark head with its
curly crest of hair was defined as if painted on the opaque blue of the
sky. She stood motionless, only her eyes moving as they searched the
distance.
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