Ward and I will do
all we can to help you."

"That's mighty white of you," he responded, slowly. "But I can't stand
the thought of confinement. I've been free as an Injun all my life.
Every way of the wind has been open to me. No; just as long as I can
find a wild spot I must keep moving. If it comes to 'hands up!' I take
the short cut." He tapped his revolver as he spoke.

"You mustn't do that," she entreated. "Promise me you won't think of
that!"

He made a stride toward her, but a movement of her companion checked
him.

"Is it morning?" Peggy sleepily asked.

"Not quite," answered the outlaw, "but it's time for me to be moving.
I'd like to hear from you some time," he said to Alice, and his voice
betrayed his sadness and tenderness. "Where could I reach you?"

She gave her address with a curious sense of wrong-doing.

He listened intently. "I'll remember that," he said, "when I've
forgotten everything else. And now--" He reached his hand to her and she
took it.

"Poor boy! I'm sorry for you!" she whispered.

Her words melted his heart. Dropping on his knees beside her bed, he
pressed her fingers to his lips, then rose. "I'll see you
again--somewhere--some time," he said, brokenly. "Good-by."

No sooner had the door closed behind the outlaw than Peggy rose in her
place beside Alice and voiced her mystification. "Now what is the
meaning of all that?"

"Don't ask me," replied the girl. "I don't feel like talking, and my
foot is aching dreadfully. Can't you get up and bathe it? I hate to ask
you--but it hurts me so."

Peggy sprang up and began to dress, puffing and whistling with
desperation. As soon as she was dressed she ran to the door and opened
it. All was still a world of green and white. "The fire is almost out,"
she reported, "and I can see Mr. Smith's horse's tracks."

V

It was about ten o'clock when a couple of horsemen suddenly rounded the
point of the forest and rode into the clearing. One of them, a slender,
elderly man with gray, curly beard and a skin like red leather,
dismounted and came slowly to the door, and though his eyes expressed
surprise at meeting women in such a place, he was very polite.

"Mornin', ma'am," he said, with suave inflection.

"Good morning," Peggy replied.

"Fine snowy mornin'."

"It is so." She was a little irritated by the fixed stare of his round,
gray eyes.

He became more direct. "May I ask who you are and how you happen to be
here, ma'am?"

"Y