ghted it. Then,
the case still open, he looked inquiringly at her.

"Smoke, Ri-Ri?" he questioned. "Ought to--never too late to learn."

She shook her head, smiling faintly. She knew his own perturbation must
be immense. She did not want to add to it; she wanted to be brave and
conceal her own agony.

He put the cigarettes away and from an inner pocket drew out a cake of
chocolate.

"Supper," he announced.

She broke the cake in two even halves, giving him back one. He took but
half of that. With the cigarette between his lips he felt better. Slowly
he relaxed.

"I'll have to teach you how to smoke," he said, blowing rings. "When
we're rested we'll get some wood and build a fire. The others will see
that and signal back and we'll make connections."

At that she stared, round-eyed. "Wait for a fire?" Incredulously she
straightened. Her voice grew breathless. "Oh, no, we must go--we must
go," she said with a hint of wildness in her urgency.

Deliberately Johnny leaned back. "Go? Go where?"

"Go down. Go to where the others are. We must find them."

"Nothing doing." Johnny rubbed a stout leg. "Your Uncle Dudley is all
in. So are you."

"But I can go, I am able to go on," she insisted. "And I would
rather--Oh, if you please, I would so much rather go on at once. We
cannot wait like this."

"I'll say we can wait like this. Watch me."

"But we cannot stay----"

"Well, we cannot go," said Johnny mimicking. "We'd get nowhere if we did
try. We'd just go round and round. Our best bet is to stay on this peak
and signal. Believe me, I'm not going to stir for one long while."

Again the fear of tears choked back the words that rushed upon her. She
told herself that she must not be weak and frantic and make a scene.
. . . Men abhorred scenes. And it would not help. It would only anger
him. He was tired now. He was not thinking of her. He had not realized
the situation.

Presently he would realize. . . . And, anyway, he was there with her, he
would take care of her, protect her from the tongues of gossip.

Slowly Johnny smoked two cigarettes, then he rose and gathered sticks
for a fire. It burned briskly, its swift flame throwing a glowing circle
about them and extinguishing the rest of the world.

There had been no sunset. A bank of clouds had swallowed the last
vestige of ruddy light. The mountain peaks darkened. It was growing
night.

"We'll wait for moonlight," said Johnny Byrd.

But at that Maria Angeli