s years-long night.

As the clouds dropped away and vanished below the horizon, leaving the
sun safely enthroned, an amazing jewel set in the world's azure canopy,
he passed again into the store. Even on this great day habit remained.
He replenished the stoves, and set the boilers of water in place for
An-ina. After that he passed out again, and made his way to the
store-house that held his secret.

He adjusted a mask upon his mouth and nostrils and tasted again the
sickening drug he had learned to hate. He unfastened the door and passed
within. For a long time he remained with the door closed behind him.
Later he reappeared, and, removing his mask, passed out into the pure
air of the morning. He secured the door behind him.

Absorbed in thought, his eyes unsmiling, he was making his way back to
the main building. It was not until he had almost reached the door that
he became aware of An-ina's presence. It was her voice that caused him
to look up.

"Look," she cried in her soft tones, and pointed.

Steve followed the direction of her lean brown finger. Marcel and Keeko
were standing in the great gateway of the stockade.

Steve's smile was good to see and An-ina responded in sympathy.

"They love. Sure. Oh, yes," she said.

Steve nodded. He was gazing at the tall, graceful figure of Keeko. He
seemed to have no eyes for the boy at all. Keeko, in her mannish clothes
of buckskin, her beaded, fur-trimmed tunic which revealed the
shapeliness of her youthful body. The vision of it all carried his mind
back so many years.

"Keeko for Marcel. Marcel for Keeko. Yes?"

Steve drew a deep breath.

"Yes. Thank God."

He moved away. There was no ceremony between these two. Steve's love for
An-ina was built upon the unshakable foundations of perfect
understanding. He strode out towards the gates, and the lovers heard the
splash of his boots as he waded the melting snow. They turned. And it
was Marcel who made half-shamefaced explanation.

"I was telling Keeko of the weed," he said. "I was telling her of the
fire country which I guess she got a peek at last summer--from a
distance. She was asking to know the trade Lorson Harris was yearning to
steal, and the feller Nicol was ready to murder for. She guesses it's
most like a fairy yarn."

Steve's eyes were steadily regarding the girl's smiling face. He noted
the beautiful, frank, wide eyes, the perfect lips that so reminded him--

The fresh, clear, transparent cheeks f