you are a very, very foolish girl, and you had better turn back
while there is yet a chance. If you will view it in the light of a
loan from a stranger, I will advance your passage back to the States,
and start an Indian over the trail with you to-morrow for Dyea."

Once or twice Frona had attempted to interrupt him, but he had waved
her imperatively to silence with his hand.

"I thank you," she began; but he broke in,--

"Oh, not at all, not at all."

"I thank you," she repeated; but it happens that--a--that you are
mistaken. I have just come over the trail from Dyea and expect to meet
my outfit already in camp here at Happy Camp. They started hours ahead
of me, and I can't understand how I passed them--yes I do, too! A boat
was blown over to the west shore of Crater Lake this afternoon, and
they must have been in it. That is where I missed them and came on.
As for my turning back, I appreciate your motive for suggesting it, but
my father is in Dawson, and I have not seen him for three years. Also,
I have come through from Dyea this day, and am tired, and I would like
to get some rest. So, if you still extend your hospitality, I'll go to
bed."

"Impossible!" He kicked the blankets to one side, sat down on the
flour sacks, and directed a blank look upon her.

"Are--are there any women in the other tents?" she asked, hesitatingly.
"I did not see any, but I may have overlooked."

"A man and his wife were, but they pulled stakes this morning. No;
there are no other women except--except two or three in a tent,
which--er--which will not do for you."

"Do you think I am afraid of their hospitality?" she demanded, hotly.
"As you said, they are women."

"But I said it would not do," he answered, absently, staring at the
straining canvas and listening to the roar of the storm. "A man would
die in the open on a night like this.

"And the other tents are crowded to the walls," he mused. "I happen to
know. They have stored all their caches inside because of the water,
and they haven't room to turn around. Besides, a dozen other strangers
are storm-bound with them. Two or three asked to spread their beds in
here to-night if they couldn't pinch room elsewhere. Evidently they
have; but that does not argue that there is any surplus space left.
And anyway--"

He broke off helplessly. The inevitableness of the situation was
growing.

"Can I make Deep Lake to-night?" Frona asked, forgetting herself to
sympa