m.

There was no more fight left in him. He was conscious only of an
immense desire for something he would not acknowledge to himself.

When at last he did fall asleep it was only to dream of Bela. By the
irony of fate he saw Bela as she might have been, wistful, honest, and
tender; anything but the sullen, designing liar his anger had built up
in the daytime. In dreams she smiled on him, and soothed his weariness
with an angel's touch.

He awoke with all his defences undermined and fallen. He could have
wept with vexation at the scurvy tricks sleep played him. Then he
would drop off and dream of her again; combing her hair in the
firelight; leading him by the hand through forests; paddling him down
rivers; but always transfigured with tenderness.

That was why he found no zest in the morning sunshine.

Ed Chaney, casting a glance at him, said: "You've overdone it. Better
lay off for a couple of days."

"I'm able to work," replied Sam. "I want to work."

"All right!" agreed Ed cheerfully. "You can hoe the garden. I'll go to
the piny ridge and chop."

All day Sam kept himself doggedly at work, though as soon as Ed
disappeared he had to fight the impulse to drop everything and fly
farther. It did not matter where he went, so he kept moving. It seemed
to him that only in movement was any escape to be had from the weight
pressing on his brain. He wanted to be alone. In his disorganized
state of nerves even Ed's friendliness was a kind of torture.

Nevertheless, when night came, another reaction set in, and he elected
to sleep with Ed because he could not face such another night alone.
They lay down side by side in their blankets. Ed babbled on as
inconsequentially as a child. He required no answers.

"We'll build a two-room house so's you can be by yourself when you
want. Two men living together get on each other's nerves sometimes,
though both are good fellows, and friends, too. Begin to grouse and
snarl like man and wife. Why, up here they tell of a man who up and
murdered his partner for no reason but he was tired looking at him.

"Afterward we will build you a house of your own, so you can hold your
land proper. Expect there'll be quite a rush next spring. This year
most of them is stopping by Caribou Lake. But I want a river. I love a
flowing river at my door; it seems to bring you new thoughts. This
river is navigable for six hundred miles up and down. Some day we'll
see the steamboats puffing in front he