He had a fine, handsome face,
and long black hair to his shoulders and gray eyes."
"Have you lost your sweetheart?" said the man, who did not know the
relations of the party.
"No," she said gravely, "my friend."
Courant explained:
"She's my wife. The man she's speaking of was a member of our company
that we lost on the desert. We thought Indians had got him and hoped
he'd get away and join with a later westbound train. His name was
David."
The sailor shook his head.
"Ain't seen no one answering to that name, nor to that description.
There wasn't a handsome-featured one in the lot, nor a David. But if
you're expecting him along, why don't you take her in and let her look
'em over? They told me at the Fort the trains was mostly all in or
ought to be. Any time now the snow on the summit will be too deep for
'em. If they get caught up there they can't be got out, so they're
coming over hot foot and are dumped down round Hock Farm. Not much to
see, but if you're looking for a friend it's worth trying."
That night Courant was again wakeful. Susan's face, as she had
questioned the sailor, floated before him on the darkness.
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