She grew tired of crying and looking into the fire, so she got up
and began to look about her. She had heard queer tales about the
inside of Canute's shanty, and her curiosity soon got the better of
her rage. One of the first things she noticed was the new black suit
of clothes hanging on the wall. She was dull, but it did not take a
vain woman long to interpret anything so decidedly flattering, and
she was pleased in spite of herself. As she looked through the
cupboard, the general air of neglect and discomfort made her pity
the man who lived there.

"Poor fellow, no wonder he wants to get married to get somebody to
wash up his dishes. Batchin's pretty hard on a man."

It is easy to pity when once one's vanity has been tickled. She
looked at the window sill and gave a little shudder and wondered if
the man were crazy. Then she sat down again and sat a long time
wondering what her Dick and Ole would do.

"It is queer Dick didn't come right over after me. He surely came,
for he would have left town before the storm began and he might just
as well come right on as go back. If he'd hurried he would have
gotten here before the preacher came. I suppose he was afraid to
come, for he knew Canuteson could pound him to jelly, the coward!"
Her eyes flashed angrily.

The weary hours wore on and Lena began to grow horribly lonesome. It
was an uncanny night and this was an uncanny place to be in. She
could hear the coyotes howling hungrily a little way from the cabin,
and more terrible still were all the unknown noises of the storm.
She remembered the tales they told of the big log overhead and she
was afraid of those snaky things on the window sills. She remembered
the man who had been killed in the draw, and she wondered what she
would do if she saw crazy Lou's white face glaring into the window.
The rattling of the door became unbearable, she thought the latch
must be loose and took the lamp to look at it. Then for the first
time she saw the ugly brown snake skins whose death rattle sounded
every time the wind jarred the door.

"Canute, Canute!" she screamed in terror.

Outside the door she heard a heavy sound as of a big dog getting up
and shaking himself. The door opened and Canute stood before her,
white as a snow drift.

"What is it?" he asked kindly.

"I am cold," she faltered.

He went out and got an armful of wood and a basket of cobs and
filled the stove. Then he went out and lay in the snow before the
door.