out of the white waste,
and presently a cluster of darker smudges shot up into the shape of a
log-house, sod stables, and straw-pile granary. A minute or two later,
she pulled the team up with an effort, and a man, who flung the door of
the house open, came out into the moonlight. He stopped, and gazed at
her in astonishment.

"Miss Creighton!" he said.

"Don't stand there," cried Sally. "Take the near horse's head, and lead
them right up to the door."

"What's the matter?" the man asked stupidly.

"Lead the team up," ordered Sally. "Jump, if you can."

It was supposed that Sproatly had never moved with much expedition in
his life, but that night he sprang towards the horses at a commanding
wave of the girl's hand. He started when he saw his comrade lying in the
bottom of the sleigh, but Sally disregarded his hurried questions.

"Help me to get him out," she said, when he stopped the team. "Keep his
right leg as straight as you can. I don't want to lift him. We must
slide him in."

They did it somehow, though the girl was breathless before their task
was finished, and the perspiration started from the man. Then Sally
turned to Sproatly.

"Get into the sleigh, and don't spare the team," she said. "Drive over
to Watson's, and bring him along. You can tell him your partner's broke
his leg, and some of his ribs. Start right now!"

Sproatly did her bidding, and when the door closed behind him she flung
off her blanket coat and thrust plenty of wood into the stove. She
looked for some coffee in the cupboard, and put on a kettle, after which
she sat down on the floor by Hawtrey's side. He lay still, with the
thick driving-robe beneath him, and though the color was creeping back
into his face, his eyes were shut, and he was apparently quite
unconscious of her presence. For the first time she was aware of a
distressful faintness, which, as she had come suddenly out of the
stinging frost into the little overheated room that reeked with tobacco
smoke and a stale smell of cooking, was not astonishing. She mastered
her dizziness, however, and presently, seeing that Hawtrey did not move,
glanced about her with some curiosity, for it was the first time she had
entered his house.

The room was scantily furnished, and, though very few of the bachelor
farmers in that country live luxuriously, she fancied that Sproatly, who
had evidently very rudimentary ideas on the subject of house-cleaning,
had not brought back all the su