In their ordinary working dress, sunburnt with exposure, covered with dust, and carrying their rifles still in their hands, they, perhaps, presented a sufficiently characteristic appearance to draw a few faces--some of them pretty and intelligent--to the windows of the coach as it passed.

The sensitive Barker was quickest to feel that resentment with which the Pioneer usually met the wide-eyed criticism of the Eastern tourist or "greenhorn," and reddened under the bold scrutiny of a pair of black inquisitive eyes behind an eyeglass.
That annoyance was communicated, though in a lesser degree, even to the bearded Demorest and Stacy.

It was an unexpected contact with that great world in which they were so soon to enter.

They felt ashamed of their appearance, and yet ashamed of that feeling.

They felt a secret satisfaction when Barker said, "They'd open their eyes wider if they knew what was in that pack-saddle," and yet they corrected him for what they were pleased to call his "snobbishness." They hurried a little faster as the road became more frequented, as if eager to shorten their distance to clean clothes and civilization.
Only Demorest began to linger in the rear.