of a skirt again until Kingdom Come. Just because o' this snow here,
don't forget you're living in the selfsame world you was in four days
ago. And you're the same man, too. Now, what's the use o' getting all
snarled up over four days of stickin' in the house? That there's what
I been revolvin' in my mind and this here's the decision I've come to."

He plodded to the door and shouted to one of the ranch hands to saddle
my horse.

Ross lit a stogy and stood thoughtful in the middle of the room. Then
he began: "I've a durn good notion, George, to knock your confounded
head off and throw you into that snowbank, if--"

"You're wrong, mister. That ain't a durned good notion you've got.
It's durned bad. Look here!" He pointed steadily out of doors until
we were both forced to follow his finger. "You're in here for more'n a
week yet." After allowing this fact to sink in, he barked out at Ross:
"Can you cook?" Then at me: "Can you cook?" Then he looked at the
wreck of Etienne and sniffed.

There was an embarrassing silence as Ross and I thought solemnly of a
foodless week.

"If you just use hoss sense," concluded George, "and don't go for to
hurt my feelin's, all I want to do is to take this young gal down to
Hicksville; and then I'll head back here and cook fer you."

The horse and Miss Adams arrived simultaneously, both of them very
serious and quiet. The horse because he knew what he had before him in
that weather; the girl because of what she had left behind.

Then all at once I awoke to a realization of what the cook was doing.
"My God, man!" I cried, "aren't you afraid to go out in that snow?"

Behind my back I heard Ross mutter, "Not him."

George lifted the girl daintily up behind the saddle, drew on his
gloves, put his foot in the stirrup, and turned to inspect me leisurely.

As I passed slowly in his review, I saw in my mind's eye the algebraic
equation of Snow, the equals sign, and the answer in the man before me.

"Snow is my last name," said George. He swung into the saddle and they
started cautiously out into the darkening swirl of fresh new currency
just issuing from the Snowdrop Mint. The girl, to keep her place,
clung happily to the sturdy figure of the camp cook.

I brought three things away from Ross Curtis's ranch house--yes, four.
One was the appreciation of snow, which I have so humbly tried here to
render; (2) was a collarbone, of which I am extra careful; (3) was a
memory of