covered with several weeks' growth of beard. From head to foot he
was filthy and neglected from lack of the necessaries of life, and
there was in his staring eyes a haunted, terrified look--the look of a
man who has been face to face with death and yet lived to tell the
tale. His remaining rags barely covered his emaciated, trembling frame.
Shoes had gone long ago. His bleeding, frost-bitten feet were partly
protected with coarse sacking tied with string. No one could have
recognized in this human derelict the strapping specimen of proud
manhood who six weeks before had said good-by to Laura and started out
light-heartedly to conquer the world. Instead, the world had conquered
him.

Throwing off the blanket, he staggered to his feet. He felt sick and
dizzy. Once he reeled and nearly fell. Twenty hours without food takes
the backbone out of any man, and it was as bad as that, with no
prospect of anything better. Weakly he stooped, and gathering up a
little snow, put it in his mouth. Then his face winced with pain. The
hunger pangs were there again. Stamping the ground and exercising his
arms vigorously for a few moments, to get his blood in circulation, he
turned, and, stooping down again to his couch, drew from under the roll
of blanket that had served him for a pillow, a formidable-looking Colt
six-shooter and a girl's photograph. The Colt he slipped between his
rags; the picture he pressed to his lips.

"God bless you, little one!" he murmured.

His companion, who was busy bending over the fire, trying to coax it
back to life, happened to look up.

"Say, young feller!" he bellowed. "Cut out that mush, and lend a hand
with this fire. Get some wood, and plenty--quick!"

Madison made no retort. He was too weak to care. Besides, Bill was
right. He had no business to think only of himself when they were both
making a last stand for life itself. Hastily gathering an armful of
small twigs, he threw them on the fire. As he watched the flames leap
up, his mate still grumbled:

"This ain't no time for foolin'. I should think yer'd try to get us out
of this mess, instead of wastin' time mooning-over that picture."

Madison stooped over the fire and warmed his frozen hands. Shivering,
he said:

"Bill--you don't know--how can you know?--what that picture means to
me. It's all that's left to me. I never expect to see her again. I
guess we'll both leave our carcasses here for the vultures to feed on.
I can't go on much lo