pulse prompted you to do such a thing?"

"You'll have a beautiful time of it," he said dryly, completely
ignoring her last question. "Take you three days to walk there--if you
knew every foot of the way. And you don't know the way. Traveling in
timber is confusing, as you've discovered. You'll never see Cariboo
Meadows, or any other place, if you tackle it single-handed, without
grub or matches or bedding. It's fall, remember. A snowstorm is due
any time. This is a whopping big country. A good many men have got
lost in it--and other men have found their bones."

He let this sink in while she sat there on his horse choking back a
wild desire to curse him by bell, book, and candle for what he had
done, and holding in check the fear of what he might yet do. She knew
him to be a different type of man from any she had ever encountered.
She could not escape the conclusion that Roaring Bill Wagstaff was
something of a law unto himself, capable of hewing to the line of his
own desires at any cost. She realized her utter helplessness, and the
realization left her without words. He had drawn a vivid picture, and
the instinct of self-preservation asserted itself.

"You misled me." She found her voice at last. "Why?"

"Did I mislead you?" he parried. "Weren't you already lost when you
came to my camp? And have I mistreated you in any manner? Have I
refused you food, shelter, or help?"

"My home is in Cariboo Meadows," she persisted. "I asked you to take
me there. You led me away from there deliberately, I believe now."

"My trail doesn't happen to lead to Cariboo Meadows, that's all,"
Roaring Bill coolly told her. "If you must go back there, I shan't
restrain you in any way whatever. But I'm for home myself. And that,"
he came close, and smiled frankly up at her, "is a better place than
Cariboo Meadows. I've got a little house back there in the woods.
There's a big fireplace where the wind plays tag with the snowflakes in
winter time. There's grub there, and meat in the forest, and fish in
the streams. It's home for me. Why should I go back to Cariboo
Meadows? Or you?"

"Why should _I_ go with you?" she demanded scornfully.

"Because I want you to," he murmured.

They matched glances for a second, Wagstaff smiling, she half horrified.

"Are you clean mad?" she asked angrily. "I was beginning to think you
a gentleman."

Bill threw back his head and laughed. Then on the instant he sobered.
"No