w her stopping in front of the door, at which she
knocked. She heard her call out and then wait, as if listening. At
once came Maigan's voice. He was barking but the sound was not an
angry one. Rather it sounded plaintively. Finally the girl pulled the
door open, after fumbling at the latch, and the dog ran out, barking
again and rolling in the snow. Then he sniffed the air and discovered
Madge, at once running towards her and pushing his muzzle in her hand.
She stroked his head and he ran back, going but a few steps and
turning around to see if she followed. She rose slowly, a sense of
fear coming over her, and hesitatingly went down the path also. At
this moment the child came out, looking frightened, and hastened over
to her.

"Heem seek--very seek," she cried, and Madge found herself running
now, with her heart beating and her breath coming fast. The terrifying
idea came to her that perhaps he was dead. But as she entered the
place the man rose painfully on his bunk. His face was amazingly pale
and his features drawn--hardly recognizable.

"Sorry, must beg your pardon--I intended to come over," he told her,
hoarsely. "It--it's some silly sort of a fever. I--I'll be better
pretty soon. It's that blessed arm of mine, I think, and--and I'm
frightfully thirsty. If--if you'll ask the kid...."

Madge peered about her, but there was no water in sight. Even if there
had been any she knew it would have frozen solid in the fireless shack
whose interior had struck a chill through her. She seized a pail.

"Where does one get it?" she asked. "Or do you have to melt ice?"

"There's a spring. It's halfway down to the pool. Never quite freezes
over. Let that girl go for it, Miss Nelson. Or--or I may go myself in
a minute. Only waiting till--till my teeth stop chattering. Then I can
light--light the fire and--and make hot tea. It--it's such a stupid
nuisance and--and I'm giving you a lot of bother."

But Madge ran out of the shack and down to that spring, where the
clear water seemed to be boiling out of the ground, since a little
cloud of steam rose from it. But it was just pure icy water and she
filled the pail and hurried back with it. When she returned the child
was efficiently engaged in making a fire in the little stove. The man
had sunk down on his bunk again and she went up to him. His teeth were
no longer chattering, but his cheekbones now bore patches of deep red.
When she ventured to touch his hand, she found that i