s. But possibly the West--a
living from day to day--was one succession of adventures, trials,
tests, troubles, and achievements. To make a place for others to live
comfortably some day! That might be Bo's meaning, embodied in her
forceful hint. But Helen was too tired to think it out then. She found
it interesting and vaguely pleasant to watch Dale.

He hobbled the horses and turned them loose. Then with ax in hand he
approached a short, dead tree, standing among a few white-barked
aspens. Dale appeared to advantage swinging the ax. With his coat off,
displaying his wide shoulders, straight back, and long, powerful arms,
he looked a young giant. He was lithe and supple, brawny but not bulky.
The ax rang on the hard wood, reverberating through the forest. A few
strokes sufficed to bring down the stub. Then he split it up. Helen was
curious to see how he kindled a fire. First he ripped splinters out of
the heart of the log, and laid them with coarser pieces on the ground.
Then from a saddlebag which hung on a near-by branch he took flint and
steel and a piece of what Helen supposed was rag or buckskin, upon
which powder had been rubbed. At any rate, the first strike of the steel
brought sparks, a blaze, and burning splinters. Instantly the flame
leaped a foot high. He put on larger pieces of wood crosswise, and the
fire roared.

That done, he stood erect, and, facing the north, he listened. Helen
remembered now that she had seen him do the same thing twice before
since the arrival at Big Spring. It was Roy for whom he was listening
and watching. The sun had set and across the open space the tips of the
pines were losing their brightness.

The camp utensils, which the hunter emptied out of a sack, gave forth a
jangle of iron and tin. Next he unrolled a large pack, the contents
of which appeared to be numerous sacks of all sizes. These evidently
contained food supplies. The bucket looked as if a horse had rolled over
it, pack and all. Dale filled it at the spring. Upon returning to the
camp-fire he poured water into a washbasin, and, getting down to his
knees, proceeded to wash his hands thoroughly. The act seemed a habit,
for Helen saw that while he was doing it he gazed off into the woods
and listened. Then he dried his hands over the fire, and, turning to the
spread-out pack, he began preparations for the meal.

Suddenly Helen thought of the man and all that his actions implied.
At Magdalena, on the stage-ride, and l