Part 1 From Out The Canyon Chapter 7 I've Come Here To Live

Widely as these two companions differed in temperament and experience,
it would be impossible to decide which felt the greater uneasiness at
the prospect immediately before them. The girl openly rebellious, the
man extremely doubtful, with reluctant steps they approached that tall,
homely yellow house--outwardly the most pretentious in Glencaid--which
stood well up in the valley, where the main road diverged into numerous
winding trails leading toward the various mines among the foothills.

They were so completely opposite, these two, that more than one chance
passer-by glanced curiously toward them as they picked their way onward
through the red dust. Hampton, slender yet firmly knit, his movements
quick like those of a watchful tiger, his shoulders set square, his
body held erect as though trained to the profession of arms, his gray
eyes marking every movement about him with a suspicion born of
continual exposure to peril, his features finely chiselled, with
threads of gray hair beginning to show conspicuously about the temples.
One would glance twice at him anywhere, for in chin, mouth, and eyes
were plainly pictured the signs of strength, evidences that he had
fought stern battles, and was no craven. For good or evil he might be
trusted to act instantly, and, if need arose, to the very death. His
attire of fashionably cut black cloth, and his immaculate linen, while
neat and unobtrusive, yet appeared extremely unusual in that careless
land of clay-baked overalls and dingy woollens. Beside him, in vivid
contrast, the girl trudged in her heavy shoes and bedraggled skirts,
her sullen eyes fastened doggedly on the road, her hair showing ragged
and disreputable in the brilliant sunshine. Hampton himself could not
remain altogether indifferent to the contrast.