In spite of her knowledge of the mountains and her natural intrepidity
of character the wounded girl's heart sank as the snow and the night
closed down over the tiny cabin in its covert of firs. To be on foot in
such gloom, in the heart of such a wilderness, was sufficiently
awe-inspiring, but to be helpless on a hard bed was to feel the utter
inconsequence of humankind. "Suppose the storm blocks the trails so that
the men cannot return for a week? What will we do for food?"
Each time she heard the outlaw deliver his burden of wood her heart
warmed to him. He was now her comfort and very present stay. "If it
should happen that the trails become impassable he alone will stand
between us and death," she thought.
The outlaw came in to say, abruptly, "If you weren't hurt and if I
weren't in such a hurry I'd rather enjoy this."
He slashed his sombrero against his thigh as he spoke, and Mrs. Adams
answered his remark without knowledge of its inner meaning.
"You mustn't think of sleeping outdoors to-night--Mr.--?"
"Smith. I belong to the big family, the Smiths," he promptly replied.
"Why don't you take away that improvised table by the wall and make your
bed there?"
"We'll need the table," he responded in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'll
just crawl under it. What's giving me most trouble is the question of
grub. They didn't leave you any too much, did they?"
"But you can kill game, can't you?" asked Peggy.
"We're pretty high up for elk, and the blue grouse are scarce this year,
but I reckon I can jump a deer or a ground-hog. We won't starve,
anyway."
Alice perceived in his voice a note of exultation. He was glad of his
reprieve, and the thought of being her protector, at least for the
night, filled him with joy. She read his mind easily and the romance of
this relationship stirred her own heart. The dramatic possibilities of
the situation appealed to her. At any moment the men might return and
force her into the role of defender. On the other hand, they might be
confined for days together in this little cabin, and in this enforced
intimacy Peggy was sure to discover his secret and his adoration.
The little hovel was filled with the golden light of the blazing fagots,
and through the open door Alice could see the feathery crystals falling
in a wondrous, glittering curtain across the night. The stream roared in
subdued voice as though oppressed by the snows, and the shadow of the
fugitive as he moved about the fire had a savage, primal significance
which awed the girl into silence.
He was very deft in camp work, and cooked their supper for them almost
as well as they could have done it themselves, but he refused to sit at
the table with Peggy. "I'll just naturally stick to my slicker, if you
don't mind. I'm wet and my hands are too grimy to eat with a lady."
Alice continued to talk to him, always with an under-current of meaning
which he easily read and adroitly answered. This care, this double
meaning, drew them ever closer in spirit, and the girl took an
unaccountable pleasure in it.
After supper he took his seat in the open doorway, and the girl in the
bunk looked upon him with softened glance. She had no fear of him now;
on the contrary, she mentally leaned upon him. Without him the night
would be a terror, the dawn an uncertainty. The brave self-reliance of
his spirit appeared in stronger light as she considered that for weeks
he had been camping alone, and that but for this accident to her he
would be facing this rayless wintry night in solitude.
He began again to question her. "I wish you'd tell me more about
yourself," he said, his dark eyes fixed upon her. "I can't understand
why any girl like you should come up here with a bunch of rock-sharps.
Are you tied up to the professor?"
If Peggy expected her patient to resent this question she must have been
surprised, for Alice merely smiled as if at the impertinence of a child.
Mrs. Adams replied: "I can tell you that she is--and a very fortunate
girl her friends think her."