tion of her words. But, as
before, the wind was beating with great force against the frosted panes,
and only a vast stretch of snow met her gaze. Turning away from the
window she now came towards him with: "You see, whoever it is, they're
snowed in--they can't get away."

Johnson knitted his brows and muttered something under his breath which
the Girl did not catch.

Again a shot was fired.

"Another thief crep' into camp," coldly observed the Girl almost
simultaneously with the report.

Johnson winced.

"Poor devil!" he muttered. "But of course, as you say, he's only a
thief."

In reply to which the Girl uttered words to the effect that she was glad
he had been caught.

"Well, you're right," said Johnson, thoughtfully, after a short silence;
then determinedly and in short jerky sentences, he went on: "I've been
thinking that I must go--tear myself away. I have very important
business at dawn--imperative business . . ."

The Girl, who now stood by the table folding up the white cloth cover,
watched him out of the corner of her eye, take down his coat from the
peg on the wall.

"Ever sample one o' our mountain blizzards?" she asked as he slipped on
his coat. "In five minutes you wouldn't know where you was. Your
important business would land you at the bottom of a canyon 'bout twenty
feet from here."

Johnson cleared his throat as if to speak but said nothing; whereupon
the Girl continued:

"You say you believe in Fate. Well, Fate has caught up with you--you got
to stay here."

Johnson was strangely silent. He was wondering how his coming there
to-night had really come about. But he could find no solution to the
problem unless it was in response to that perverse instinct which
prompts us all at times to do the very thing which in our hearts we know
to be wrong. The Girl, meanwhile, after a final creasing of the
neatly-folded cover, started for the cupboard, stopping on the way to
pick up various articles which the wind had strewn about the room.
Flinging them quickly into the cupboard she now went over to the window
and once more attempted to peer out into the night. But as before, it
was of no avail. With a shrug she straightened the curtains at the
windows and started for the door. Her action seemed to quicken his
decision, for, presently, with a gesture of resignation, he threw down
his hat and coat on the table and said as if speaking to himself:

"Well, it is Fate--my Fate that has always made the