This remarkable state
of mind lasted until Spillbeans began to trot, and then another day of
misery beckoned to Carley with gray stretches of distance.
She was to learn that misery, as well as bliss, can swallow up the hours.
She saw the monotony of cedar trees, but with blurred eyes; she saw the
ground clearly enough, for she was always looking down, hoping for sandy
places or rocky places where her mustang could not trot.
At noon the cavalcade ahead halted near a cabin and corral, which turned
out to be a sheep ranch belonging to Hutter. Here Glenn was so busy that he
had no time to devote to Carley. And Flo, who was more at home on a horse
than on the ground, rode around everywhere with the men. Most assuredly
Carley could not pass by the chance to get off Spillbeans and to walk a
little. She found, however, that what she wanted most was to rest. The
cabin was deserted, a dark, damp place with a rank odor. She did not stay
long inside.
Rain and snow began to fall, adding to what Carley felt to be a
disagreeable prospect. The immediate present, however, was cheered by a cup
of hot soup and some bread and butter which the herder Charley brought her.
By and by Glenn and Hutter returned with Flo, and all partook of some
lunch.
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