up through dry grass and twigs. As it grew he piled on larger
sticks till the bright flame waved two feet high, lighting up the
near-by woods and shedding a bright glow on the three horses standing
patiently at hand. He paid no attention to Hazel until she came
timidly up to the fire. Then he looked up at her with his whimsical
smile.

"That's right," he said; "come on and get warm. No use worrying--or
getting cross. I suppose from your civilized, conventional point of
view it's a terrible thing to be out in the woods all night alone with
a strange man. But I'm not a bear--I won't eat you."

"I'm sorry if I seemed rude," Hazel said penitently; Roaring Bill's
statement was reassuring in its frankness. "I can't help thinking of
the disagreeable side of it. People talk so. I suppose I'll be a nine
days' wonder in Cariboo Meadows."

Bill laughed softly.

"Let them take it out in wondering," he advised. "Cariboo Meadows is a
very small and insignificant portion of the world, anyway."

He went to one of the packs, and came back with a canvas cover, which
he spread on the ground.

"Sit on that," he said. "The earth's always damp in the woods."

Then he stripped the horses of their burdens and tied them out of sight
among the trees. That task finished, he took his ax and rustled a pile
of wood, dragging dead poles up to the fire and chopping them into
short lengths. When finally he laid aside his ax, he busied himself
with gathering grass and leaves and pine needles until he had several
armfuls collected and spread in an even pile to serve as a mattress.
Upon this he laid his bedding, two thick quilts, two or three pairs of
woolen blankets, a pillow, the whole inclosed with a long canvas sheet,
the bed tarpaulin of the cattle ranges.

"There," he said; "you can turn in whenever you feel like it."

For himself he took the saddle blankets and laid them close by the fire
within reaching distance of the woodpile, taking for cover a pack
canvas. He stretched himself full length, filled his pipe, lit it, and
fell to staring into the fire while he smoked.

Half an hour later he raised his head and looked across the fire at
Hazel.

"Why don't you go to bed?" he asked.

"I'm not sleepy," she declared, which was a palpable falsehood, for her
eyelids were even then drooping.

"Maybe not, but you need rest," Bill said quietly. "Quit thinking
things. It'll be all the same a hundred years from now. Go on to b