now and
then. If you want to live in the mountains, you've got to be watchful."

A wave of smoke rolled about them and sparks drove past like hail. A
fiery shower fell on Carrie's thin dress and Jim, seizing her, beat
them out. This was needful and he began without embarrassment but
presently thrilled, and Carrie's scorched face got red as he ran his
smarting hands across the thin material.

"Keep still!" he said, roughly. "It's light stuff and will soon catch
fire."

Then, picking off a glowing cinder, he took her arm and they started
down hill. When they came out of the smoke he was breathless and
Carrie gasped.

"Oh, Jim, you have burned your hands!" she said.

"Not much. They're hard and I have often hurt them worse. It's your
dress that bothers me. Look at the charred spots."

"But you're not to blame for that."

"I am to blame. I oughtn't to have let you stay."

"I wanted to stay."

"That doesn't matter," Jim declared. "My business was to take care of
you. In fact, it's my business all the time."

"Something of a responsibility, Jim!" Carrie remarked. "However, I
think we'll go on."

They stopped again before they reached the camp, for pushing through
tangled bush is hard work, and Carrie sat down on a fallen trunk.

"Isn't the fire moving up the valley?" she asked.

"It is," Jim said, frowning. "Fires sometimes do move against a light
wind. However, we won't talk about this yet." He paused and touched
her dress. "Here's another big hole. You can't mend the thing."

"I'm afraid not," Carrie agreed.

"And the blue one has a nasty tear, besides the stain where Jake spilt
the coffee. I must make a trip to the settlement when the fire burns
out."

"You mustn't go," said Carrie, firmly. "You can't leave your job.
It's much more important than my clothes."

"For all that, I am going, as soon as I can. When we were talking not
long since I began to think. We have taken your help for granted,
without reckoning what it cost; but it has hurt me to see you occupied
with the cooking-pots."

Carrie gave him a level, smiling glance. "It's for Jake and you and
the boys. In a way, you're all mine, and I'm rather proud of my
family."

"We are yours," Jim declared. "In fact, we were lucky when you, so to
speak, took us under your wing. You have a kind of protective instinct
that makes you look after folks and makes them trust you; but you
oughtn't to be cooking for a crowd of hung