snow. The
other man, following the first quickly, dove through the snow drifts to
the dugout where he fumbled in the slicker on Lawler's saddle until he
found a flask.

By the time the little man returned the woman was in one of the lower
bunks. A pair of bare feet, small and shapely, were sticking out over
the edge of the bunk, and the tall fence cutter was vigorously rubbing
snow upon them. A pair of small, high-top riding boots of soft, pliable
leather, was lying beside the bunk near some pitiably thin stockings.

At the other end of the bunk Lawler was bathing, with ineffable
tenderness and care, a face that had been swathed in the scarf he had
previously removed. The long, glistening, black hair had been brushed
back from its owner's forehead by Lawler; and a corner of a blanket had
been modestly folded over a patch of white breast, exposed when Lawler
had ruthlessly torn away the flimsy, fluffy waist.

"It was the scarf that saved her face," said Lawler, after he had worked
over the unconscious form for a quarter of an hour. The face was
flushed, now--which was a good sign; and the feet and ankles were
beginning to show signs of restored circulation also--though more
reluctantly.

"How she ever got through it I'm not pretending to say," declared
Lawler, grimly. "But she did it, and the frost didn't get her, much.
She'll be fresh as a daisy in a couple of hours."

The tall man--Link--had ceased his labors with the woman, and was
standing near Lawler. He grinned at Lawler's words.

His face was flushed, his eyes were glowing with passion as he watched
the inert form on the bunk.

"She's a peach," he said, thickly. Lawler was not looking at him; he was
giving all his attention to the woman.

"Della Wharton," continued Link. "I've seen her at the Two
Diamond--runnin' around with Warden. Warden's took a shine to her. Don't
blame him." He muttered something else that Lawler did not hear, for
Lawler was paying no attention to him.

Lawler held the flask to the woman's half-open mouth, and smiled when
several drops of the strong spirits trickled over her tongue. Then he
walked to the wood pile and replenished the fire. Returning, he saw Link
standing close to the bunk, smiling bestially at the upturned face. When
Lawler caught sight of him he was fingering the disordered hair, lifting
it and letting it filter through his fingers.

Without a word, Lawler leaped and struck with bitter malignance. Not a
sound es