Something in the sight of her, unbeautiful, enfeebled, her high spirit dimmed, stirred in him a new, strange tenderness. His arm tightened about her, his look lost its jealous ardor and wandering over her blighted face, melted to a passionate concern. The appeal of her beauty gave place to a stronger, more gripping appeal, never felt by him before. She was no longer the creature he owned and ruled, no longer the girl he had broken to an abject submission, but the woman he loved. Uplifted in the sudden realization he felt the world widen around him and saw himself another man. Then through the wonder of the revelation came the thought of what he had done to win her. It astonished him as a dart of pain would have done. Why had he remembered it? Why at this rich moment should the past send out this eerie reminder? He pushed it from him, and bending toward her murmured a lover's phrase. She opened her eyes and they met an expression in his that she had felt the need of, hoped and waited for, an answer to what she had offered and he had not seen or wanted. It was completion, arrival at the goal, so longed for and despaired of, and she turned her face against his shoulder, her happiness too sacred even for his eyes. He did not understand the action, thought her spirit languished and, pointing outward, cried in his mounting gladness: "Look--that's where our home will be." She lifted her head and followed the directing finger. The old man stood beside them also gazing down. "It's a grand sight," he said. "But it's as yellow as the desert. Must be almighty dry." "There's plenty of water," said Courant. "Rivers come out of these mountains and go down there into the plain. And they carry the gold, the gold that's going to make us rich." He pressed her shoulder with his encircling arm and she answered dreamily: "We are rich enough." He thought she alluded to the Doctor's money that was hidden in the wagon. "But we'll be richer. We've got here before the rest of 'em. We're the first comers and it's ours. You'll be queen here, Susan. I'll make you one." His glance ranged over the splendid prospect, eager with the man's desire to fight and win for his own. She thought little of what he said, lost in her perfect content. "When we've got the gold we'll take up land and I'll build a house for you, a good house, my wife won't live in a tent. It'll be of logs, strong and water tight, and as soon as they bring things in--and the ships will be coming soon--we'll furnish it well. And that'll be only the beginning." "Where will we build it?" she said, catching his enthusiasm and straining her eyes as if then and there to pick out the spot. "By the river under a pine." "With a place for Daddy John," she cried, stretching a hand toward the old man. "He must be there too." He took it and stood linked to the embracing pair by the girl's warm grasp. "I'll stick by the tent," he said; "no four walls for me."