very superior about it, though
very gentle and indulgent; and a thing or two she had said to him
before flashed back into his mind. Was she trying to mother him? The
thought made him angry.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Of course I'll not go!" she said simply.

"You will go!" he retorted wrathfully.

She knelt quickly at his side, and took one of his hands between both
her own.

"Philip!" she said gently. "I know that--perhaps--it's a foolish
question to ask. You mustn't call me silly. But--do you believe in
miracles?"

"Miracles be damned!" he blurted out. "I'll see--"

She put her hand over his mouth.

"Listen, Philip!" she went on. "I prayed for a miracle, and it has
happened. Perhaps there'll be another; who knows? We'll wait and see.
If nothing happens, why--Do you think I'm afraid?"

He made no answer, and she needed none.

CHAPTER XXIV

HAIG'S ARGUMENT

When she had unsaddled Tuesday, and left him grazing near the "camp,"
Marion set out with Murray's hatchet and knife to cut splints for
Haig's broken leg. Haig watched her run across the meadow, leap the
brook, and hurry on to a grove of quaking aspens at the edge of the
forest. Then he lay back to consider the logic of the situation, with
the following result, which appeared to him unanswerable:

First. The girl yonder had already saved his life once, and was doing
her best, though against impossible odds, to save it again. Her motive
was one that need not be dwelt upon in this fatal crisis. The fact
remained that for him she was facing certain death, and he must do all
in his power to save her. That was the starting point from which all
reckonings must be made.

Second. His own case was hopeless. Long before he should be able to
move from where he lay, the valley would be buried in snow to half the
height of those pines yonder. If she remained with him her case would
be hopeless too. Death would be inevitable for both of them: death
from starvation, from exposure, from cold. They had neither food, nor
proper clothing, nor shelter of any kind. The hardiest mountaineer
would not dream, of attempting to pass eight or nine months of winter
in a place like that, even with his two arms and two legs free. He,
with his broken leg, and she, a woman, would not survive an eighth or
a ninth of that period.

Third. The chances of rescue. There would be no search for him, he
reflected with a grim smile. But for Marion, undoubtedly. To-morrow
morning,