gs. Soon the blaze was
dancing feebly in the darkness. He piled on fuel, and with Vosper's aid
started breakfast preparations.

When the meal was nearly ready he knocked at the cabin door. "Yes?"
Virginia called.

Bill hesitated and stammered. He didn't exactly know whether or not he
was stepping outside the bounds of propriety. "Would you like to have
me come in and build a fire for you to dress by?" he asked.

Virginia considered. Few were the eyes, in her short days, that had
beheld her in bed; but to save her she could not think of a reason why
this kind offer should not be accepted. She was down to the realities;
besides, the room was disagreeably chilly. She snuggled down and drew
the blankets about her throat.

"Come ahead," she invited.

With scarcely a glance at her he entered and built a fire, and a few
minutes later he brought in her steaming breakfast. The door was open
then, and she saw the snow without.

Her face was a little pale and her voice was strained when she spoke
again. "What does it mean?" she asked.

"What? The snow?"

"Yes. Does it mean that winter has come?"

"No. When winter does come, there never is any question about it--and
it really isn't due for another month. If I thought it was real winter
I'd advise going back. But I think it's just an early snowfall--to
melt away the first warm day."

"But isn't there danger--that by going farther we'd be snowed in?"

"Even if winter should close down, and we find the snow deepening to the
danger point, it wouldn't be too late to turn back then. Of course
we've got to keep watch. A week or so of steady snow might make these
mountains wholly impassable--the soft, wet snow of the Selkirks can't
even be manipulated with snowshoes to any advantage. We'd simply have
to wait till the snow packed--which might not be for months. But we
can go on a few days, at least, and ride safely back through two feet of
snow or more. Of course--it depends on how badly you want to go on."

"I want to go--more than anything in the world."

"Then we will go on. I've already sent Vosper to get the horses."

He turned to his work. Lounsbury, his mood still unassuaged, called
from his bed. "Bring me my breakfast here, Bronson," he commanded.
"Lord, I've had a rotten night. This bed was like stones. I can't
compliment you on your accommodations."

Bill brought him his breakfast, quietly and gravely. "They're not my
accommodations," B