toward the man. "What do you mean, Lefty? What about Miss
Della? Isn't she at the ranchhouse?"

"She rode away about three hours ago--on that big roan of hers. Went to
town, most likely. She didn't say. I reckoned that if she _had_ gone to
town, you'd have run into her."

Warden ran stiffly to the ranchhouse, where he came upon Aunt Hannah in
the kitchen.

"Where's Della?" he demanded, excitedly.

The woman looked at Warden in mild surprise.

"Why, didn't she come with you, Mr. Warden? She told me she intended
to." And then her face blanched at the wild excitement Warden betrayed.

"She isn't with you--you didn't meet her? Oh, she'll be frozen to death
in this terrible storm!"

"Damn you!" cursed Warden, gripping the woman's arm until she cried out
in pain; "didn't I tell you not to let her go alone--anywhere?"

He released the woman and plunged out, running blindly back to the
stable. He collided with Singleton at the stable door. His face was
ghastly, his eyes bulging.

"Della's gone, Singleton!" he gasped. "She went to town. For God's sake,
get those saddles on again! We've got to go back!"

"Warden, it can't be done," said Singleton in a low voice; "you'd freeze
to death before you went a mile. There ain't any man can face that
storm an' live. Man," he added when Warden made a violent gesture of
impatience; "use your reason. We've just come five miles, with the wind
at our backs--an' we're half froze. Lefty just told me that Miss Della
left about three hours ago. If that's the case she's likely in town,
snug an' warm, somewheres. We'd ought to have nosed around a little
before we left, but we didn't, an' mebbe she rode right by your place,
thinkin' to stop in on the way back. You left early, you know. Anyway,
Warden, if she's in town she'll stay there till the storm is over--snug
an' warm. And if she didn't go to town there wouldn't be no use lookin'
for her. Why, man, look out there! you can't see your hand before you!"

Warden raged insanely, stalking back and forth through the stable; and
finally to the ranchhouse again, where he bitterly arraigned Aunt
Hannah. But in the end he stayed in the ranchhouse, close beside a
window, out of which he watched until the night came to shut off his
view of the great, white world.

Over at the Circle L ranchhouse were other anxious watchers--men whose
steady eyes held a haunting gleam of worry, and whose rugged faces grew
grim and long as the days passed and the