"My horse slipped and fell on my foot."
"Wait a minute," he commanded. "I'll rustle a candle. I left one here."
When his form came out of the dark blur behind his candle Alice
perceived that he was no ordinary hunter. He was young, alert, and very
good-looking, although his face was stern and his mouth bitter. He laid
aside his hat as he approached the bunk in which the two women were
cowering as mice tremble before a cat. For a full minute he looked down
at them, but at last he smiled and said, in a jocular tone:
"You're sure-enough women, I can see that. You'll excuse me--but when a
man comes back to a shack in the middle of the night in a place like
this and finds a couple of women in a bunk he's likely to think he's
seeing pictures in his sleep."
"I can understand that," Alice returned, recovering her self-command.
"You're the ranger, I suppose? I told my friend here that you might
return."
"I'm mighty glad I did," he said, heartily.
"Thank you; you're very kind."