through the
snow, with the rolls of silk under his arm, and the silver plates in
his hand, while Harry carried the sack of coffee and the paper for
Amalia. As they neared the cabin the big man paused.

"Take these things in for me, Harry. I--I--left something back in the
shed. Drop that coffee and I'll fetch it as I come along."

"Now, what kind of a lie would you call that, sir, since it's your
courage you've left?"

"Let be, let be. Can't you see I'm going back after it?"

So Harry carried in the gifts and Larry went back for his "courage"
and donned his new suit of clothes to help him carry it, and then came
walking in with a jovial swagger, and accepted the mother's thanks and
Amalia's embrace with a marvelous ease, especially the embrace, with
which he seemed mightily pleased.

CHAPTER XXIV

AMALIA'S FETE

The winter was a cold one, and the snows fell heavily, but a way was
always kept open between the cabin and the fodder shed, and also by
great labor a space was kept cleared around the cabin and a part of
the distance toward the fall so that the women might not be walled in
their quarters by the snow. With plenty to occupy them all, the weeks
sped swiftly and pleasantly. Larry did a little trapping and hunting,
but toward midwinter the sport became dangerous, because of the depth
of the snow, and with the exception of stalking a deer now and then,
for fresh food, he and Harry spent the most of their time burrowing in
the mountain for gold.

Amalia's crutches were gradually laid aside, until she ran about as
lightly as before, but even had she not been prevented by the snow she
would not have been allowed to go far away from the cabin alone. The
men baited and lay in wait for the panther, and at last shot him, but
Larry knew from long experience that when the snows were deep,
panthers often haunted his place, and their tracks were frequently
seen higher up the mountain where he was wont to hunt the mountain
sheep.

Sometimes Harry King rode with Amalia where the wind had swept the way
bare, toward the bend in the trail, and would bring her back glowing
and happy from the exercise. Sometimes when the storms were fierce
without, and he suspected Larry longed for his old-time seclusion, he
sat in the cabin. At these times Amalia redeemed her promise to teach
him French. Few indeed were the books she had for help in giving these
lessons. One little unbound book of old sonnets and songs and a small