ing him, it seemed to be a case of
choosing the lesser evil. Curiously she felt no fear of Bill Wagstaff
in person, and she did have a dread vision of what might happen to her
if she went wandering alone in the woods. There was one loophole left
to comfort her. It seemed scarcely reasonable that they could fare on
forever without encountering other frontier folk. Upon that
possibility she based her hopes of getting back to civilization, not so
much for love of civilization as to defeat Roaring Bill's object, to
show him that a woman had to be courted rather than carried away
against her will by any careless, strong-armed male. She knew nothing
of the North, but she thought there must be some mode of communication
or transportation. If she could once get in touch with other
people--well, she would show Roaring Bill. Of course, getting back to
Cariboo Meadows meant a new start in the world, for she had no hope,
nor any desire, to teach school there after this episode. She found
herself facing that prospect unmoved, however. The important thing was
getting out of her present predicament.

Roaring Bill made his camp that night as if no change in their attitude
had taken place. To all his efforts at conversation she turned a deaf
ear and a stony countenance. She proposed to eat his food and use his
bedding, because that was necessary. But socially she would have none
of him. Bill eventually gave over trying to talk. But he lost none of
his cheerfulness. He lay on his own side of the fire, regarding her
with the amused tolerance that one bestows upon the capricious temper
of a spoiled child.

Thereafter, day by day, the miles unrolled behind them. Always Roaring
Bill faced straight north. For a week he kept on tirelessly, and a
consuming desire to know how far he intended to go began to take hold
of her. But she would not ask, even when daily association dulled the
edge of her resentment, and she found it hard to keep up her hostile
attitude, to nurse bitterness against a man who remained serenely
unperturbed, and who, for all his apparent lawlessness, treated her as
a man might treat his sister.

To her unpracticed eye, the character of the country remained unchanged
except for minor variations. Everywhere the timber stood in serried
ranks, spotted with lakes and small meadows, and threaded here and
there with little streams. But at last they dropped into a valley
where the woods thinned out, and down