ept by
stiffening spray, rides at last, ice-bound, staggering, majestic, into
port.

The moment they struck the mountain-path into the Bend, McGraw and
Glover caught their bearings by the curves, and Glover, standing at
Gertrude's elbow, told her they were safe.

Not until he had laughed into her ear something that the silent McGraw,
lying on his back under the engine with a wrench, when he confessed he
never expected to see Medicine Bend again, had said of her own splendid
courage did the flood spring from her eyes.

When Glover added that they were entering the gorge, and laughingly
asked if she would not like to sound the whistle for the yard limits,
she smiled through tears and gave him her hand to be helped down,
cramped and chilled, from her corner.

At the moment that she left the cab she faltered again. McGraw
stripped his cap from his head as she turned to speak. She took from
the breast of her blouse her watch, dainty as a jewel, and begged him
to take it, but he would not.

She drew her glove and stripped from her finger a ring.

"This is for your wife," she said, pressing it into his hand.

"I have no wife."

"Your sister."

"Nor sister."

"Keep it for your bride," she whispered, retreating. "It is yours.
Good-by, good-by!"

She sprang from the gangway to Glover's arms and the snow. The storm
drove pitilessly down the bare street as she clung to his side and
tried to walk the half block to the hotel. The wind, even for a single
minute, was deadly to face. No light, no life was anywhere visible.
He led her along the lee of the low street buildings, and mindful of
the struggle it was to make headway at all turned half between her and
the wind to give her the shelter of his shoulders, halting as she
stumbled to encourage her anew. He saw then that she was struggling in
the darkness for breath, and without a word he bent over her, took her
up like a child and started on, carrying her in his arms.

If he frightened her she gave no sign. She held herself for an instant
uncertain and aloof, though she could not but feel the heavy draught
she made on his strength. The wind stung her cheeks; her breath caught
again in her throat and she heard him implore her to turn her face, to
turn it from the wind. He stumbled as he spoke, and as she shielded
her face from the deadly cold, one hand slipped from her muff.
Reaching around his head she drew his storm-cap more closely down with
her fingers.