bled him. For the poor, weak fool of
a husband he cared nothing; but this woman was his, and the child to
come was his. Birth--of which many men make a jest--suddenly took on
majesty and terror, and the little life seemed about to enter a world
of storm which filled him with a sense of duty new to him.

He bent down and laid his cheek against his woman's hands, and his
throat choked with a passionate resolution. He put his merry, careless
young manhood behind him at that moment and assumed the responsibilities
of a husband.

"May God strike me dead if I don't make you happy!" he whispered.

VII

CONCLUSION

Bailey woke in the night, chilled. The fire was low, and as he rose to
add some coal to the stove he looked about him in his way. Rivers' bunk
was empty. He glanced toward the bed, and saw him wrapped in his buffalo
coat kneeling beside Blanche's pillow. He seemed asleep, as his cheek
rested upon his right hand, which was clasped in both of hers.

The young pioneer sat for several minutes thinking, staring straight at
his friend. There was something here that made all the difference in
the world. Suppose these people really loved each other as he loved
Estelle? Then he softly fed the fire and lay down again.

His brain whirled as if some sharp blow had dazzled him. Outside the
implacable winds still rushed and warred, and beat and clamored,
shrieking, wailing, like voices from hell. The snow dashed like surf
against the walls. It seemed to cut off the little cabin from the rest
of the world and to dwarf all human action like the sea. It made social
conventions of no value, and narrowed the question of morality to the
relationship of these three human souls.

Lying there in the dark, with the elemental war of wind and snow filling
the illimitable arch of sky, he came to feel, in a dim, wordless way,
that this tragedy was born of conventions largely. Also, it appeared
infinitesimal, like the activities of insects battling, breeding, dying.
He came also to feel that the force which moved these animalculae was
akin to the ungovernable sweep of the wind and snow--all inexplicable,
elemental, unmoral.

His thought came always back to the man kneeling there, and the clasp of
the woman's hands--that baffled him, subdued him.

When he awoke it was light. The roar of the wind continued, but faint,
far away, like the humming of a wire with the cold. He lay bewildered,
half dreaming, not knowing what it was t