rap line. It was
only a hut, perhaps ten feet long by eight wide; it had no floor and but
slabs for a roof, no window and no paneled interior; only the great
logs, lifted one upon another; yet no luxurious hotel that had been her
lodging for the night on previous journeys had ever seemed to her such a
haven; none had ever been such a comfort to her tired spirit. Her heart
flooded with joy at the sight of it. Bill smiled and held the door open
wide.

"Sit down on that busted old chair," he advised. "I'll have a fire for
you in a minute."

A rusted camp stove had been erected in the cabin and she watched,
fascinated, his quick actions as he built a fire. With astonishingly
few strokes he cut down a pitch-laden spruce, trimmed the branches, and
soon came staggering into camp with a four-foot length of the trunk
across his brawny back, grunting like a buffalo the while. This he
split and cut into lengths suitable for the stove. With his hunting
knife he cut curling shavings, and in a moment a delicious warmth began
to flood the cabin. The girl's body welcomed it, it stole into her
tissues and buoyed up her spirits. She opened her hands to it as to a
beloved friend.

It was only warmth,--the exhalation from a rusted stove in a crudely
constructed cabin. Yet to Virginia it was dear beyond all naming. In
one little day on that dreadful trail she had, in some measure at least,
got down to essentials; the ancient love of the fire, implanted deeply
in the germ plasm, was wakened and recalled. It was not a love that she
had to learn. The warp and woof of her being was impregnated with it;
only in her years of ease she had forgotten what an ancient friend and
comfort it was.

In her past life Virginia had never known the real meaning of hunger.
Her meals were inadvertent; she had them more from a matter of habit
than a realization of bodily craving. But curiously, for the last hour
her thought had dwelt on food,--the simple, material substance with no
adornment. The dainty salads and ices and relishes that had been her
greatest delight in her city home hadn't even come into her mind, but
she did remember, with unlooked-for fondness, potatoes and meat. And
now she watched Vosper's supper preparations with an eagerness never
known before.

Although Vosper had been hired for cook, Virginia noticed that Bill kept
a watchful eye over the preparation of the food; and she felt distinctly
grateful. She saw the grous