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Bonner, Geraldine, 1870-1930

"The Emigrant Trail"


"I guess it does," he said low, more as if speaking to himself than her.
This time she said nothing, feeling dashed and repulsed. They
continued to sit close together on the rock, the man lost in morose
reverie, the girl afraid to move or touch him lest he should show
further annoyance.
The voice of Daddy John calling them to supper came to both with
relief. They walked to the camp side by side, Low with head drooped,
the girl at his elbow stealing furtive looks at him. As they
approached the fire she slid her hand inside his arm and, glancing
down, he saw the timid questioning of her face and was immediately
contrite. He laid his hand on hers and smiled, and she caught her
breath in a deep sigh and felt happiness come rushing back. Whatever
it was she had said that displeased him she would be careful not to say
it again, for she had already learned that the lion in love is still
the lion.


CHAPTER II
Their claim was rich and they buckled down to work, the old man
constructing a rocker after a model of his own, and Courant digging in
the pits. Everything was with them, rivals were few, the ground
uncrowded, the season dry.


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