y, and the girl could not keep back the
tears; but she managed to repress the sobs.

"There!" exclaimed Rafe. "You are a plucky girl. I'm sorry I got some of
that snow down your neck, Nan. Couldn't help it. But it's the only thing
to do when the thermometer is thirty-two degrees below zero. Why! A
fellow went outside with his ears uncovered at Droomacher's camp one
day last winter and after awhile he began to rub his ears and one of 'em
dropped off just like a cake of ice."

"Stop your lying, boy!" commanded his father. "It isn't as bad as that,
Nan. But you want to watch out for frost bite here in the woods, just
the same as we had to watch out for the automobiles in crossing those
main streets in Chicago."

With a red sun rising over the low ridge of wooded ground to the east,
the camp in the hollow was revealed, the smoke rising in a pillar of
blue from the sheet-iron chimney of the cookhouse; smoke rising, too,
from a dozen big horses being curried before the stables.

Most of the men had arrived the night before. They were tumbling out
of the long, low bunkhouse now and making good use of the bright tin
washbasins on the long bench on the covered porch. Ice had been broken
to get the water that was poured into the basins, but the men laved
their faces and their hairy arms and chests in it as though it were
summer weather.

They quickly ran in for their outer shirts and coats, however, and then
trooped in to the end of the cook shed where the meals were served. Tom
turned away to look over his horses and see that they were all ready for
the day's work. Rafe put up the roan ponies in a couple of empty stalls
and gave them a feed of oats.

Uncle Henry took Nan by the hand, and, really she felt as though she
needed some support, she was so stiff from the cold, and led her into
the warm room where the men were gathering for the hearty meal the cook
and his helper had prepared.

The men were boisterous in their greeting of Uncle Henry, until they saw
Nan. Than, some bashfully, some because of natural refinement, lowered
their voices and were more careful how they spoke before the girl.

But she heard something that troubled her greatly. An old, grizzled man
in a corner of the fireplace where the brisk flames leaped high among
the logs, and who seemed to have already eaten his breakfast and was
busily stoning an axe blade, looked up as Nan and her uncle approached,
saying:

"Seen Ged Raffer lately, Hen?"

"I