hat delicious gravy broth?"

"If it won't tire you too much," he consented, and at that he sat back
and watched her while she mixed the bread, a housewifely little figure
kneeling before the fire and patting the dough into a cake with hands
that not all the rough work of the adventure weeks had made misshapen.

Somewhat beyond this they made their post-midnight meal, and were once
more light-hearted and care-free. In the aftermath of it, when Prime had
lighted his homemade pipe, they were even buoyant enough to plan for the
future.

"We'll go on again to-morrow, shan't we?" the young woman assumed. "We
can't be so very far from the towns now, with the river grown so
large."

"I fancy we are nearer than we thought we were," Prime replied. "Over to
the west, where I went this afternoon, there is another and still larger
river. On its banks the timber has all been cut off and there is nothing
but second and third growth. It is a safe bet that the two rivers come
together a little below here, and if we are not stopped by our inability
to cross the bigger river----"

"We are not going to be stopped," she prophesied hopefully. "I have a
feeling that our troubles, or the worst of them, are all over."

Prime smiled. "The joyous reaction is still with you, but that is all
right and just as it should be. We'll keep on going until we come to a
town or a railroad, and then----"

She was sufficiently light-hearted to laugh with him when he glanced
down at his torn and travel-worn clothes.

"And then we shall be arrested for tramps," she finished for him. "There
is one consolation--neither of us will look any worse than the other."

"When we find a town we shall find clothes," he asserted. "Luckily we
have English money to buy with."

"Would you--would you spend that money?" she asked, half fearfully.

"Why not? I'd hock the dead men themselves if we had them and there
wasn't any other way to raise the wind. But I have some good,
old-fashioned American money, too."

"I shall have to borrow of you when we get to where we can buy things,"
she said, with a sudden access of shyness that was new to him. "I had a
purse with a little money in it that night at Quebec, but it
disappeared."

"What is mine is yours, Lucetta; surely you don't have to be told that,
at this stage of the game."

"Thank you," she said softly. "That goes with everything else you have
done for me." Then, after a pause: "Will you tell the other girl ab