e those sacks hanging
from the ceiling--but they certainly haven't enough to keep us alive.
And there's nothing else that I can see."

"We'd have a hard time, if we had to depend on the contents of those
sacks. Miss Tremont, can you cook?"

"Cook? Good Heavens--I never have. But I can learn, I suppose."

"You'd better learn. It will help pass away the time. I'll be busy
getting meat and keeping the fires high, among other things."

"But what is there to cook?"

He walked, with some triumph, to the bunk on which she had slept the
night before, and lifting it up, revealed a great box beneath. She
understood, now, why he had not been able to make a previous
investigation. They danced with joy at its contents,--bags of rice
and beans, dried apples, marmalade and canned goods, enough for some
weeks at least. Best of all, from Bill's point of view, there were a
few aged and ripened plugs of tobacco, for cutting up for his pipe.

"The one thing we haven't got is meat," Bill told her, "except a little
jerky; but there's plenty of that in the woods if we can just find it.
And I don't intend to delay about that. If the snow gets much deeper,
we'd have to have snowshoes to hunt at all."

"You mean--to go hunting to-day?"

"As soon as we can stir up a meal. How would pancakes taste?"

"Glorious! I'll cook breakfast myself."

"Not breakfast--lunch," he corrected. "It's already about noon. But
it would be very nice if you'd do the cooking while I cut the night's
fuel. You know how--dilute a little canned milk, and a little baking
powder, stir in your flour--and it's wheat mixed with rye, and bully
flour for flapjacks--and fry 'em thick. Set water to boil and we'll
have coffee, too."

They went to their respective tasks. And the pancakes and coffee, when
at last they were steaming on the little, crude board-table, were really
a very creditable effort. They were thick and rich as befits wilderness
flapjacks, but covered with syrup they slid easily down the throat.
Bill consumed three of them, full skillet size, and smacked his lips
over the coffee. Virginia managed two herself.

He helped her wash the scanty dishes, then prepared for the hunt. "Do
you want to come?" he asked. "It's a cool, raw day. You'll be more
comfortable here."

"Do you think I'd stay here?" she demanded.

She didn't attempt to analyze her feelings. She only knew that this
cabin, lost in the winter forest, would be a bleak and