ce she got up and
looked through a hole in the canvas; she had taken off her shoes and
made no noise to draw attention to her spying. It must have been chance,
therefore, which prompted Thornton to lift his head quickly and look
toward her. The light was all on his side of the room; she knew that he
had not heard her and could not see her; the tear in her flimsy wall was
scarcely more than a pin-hole. He was playing cards; furthermore he was
winning, there being a high stack of blue and red and white chips in
front of him and a sprinkling of gold. But she saw no sign of the
gambling fever in his eyes. Rather, there was in them a look which made
her draw back guiltily; which sent her creeping back to her rude bed
with suffused cheeks. He was still thinking of her, solely of her,
despite the spoils of chance at his hand....

All night the storm beat at the lone house in the mountain pass,
rattling at doors and windows, whistling down the chimney, shaking the
building with its fierce gusts. The rain ceased only briefly when the
cold congealed it into a flurry of beating hail stones; thereafter came
the rain again, scarcely less noisy. And in the morning when she awoke
with a start and smelled boiling coffee the wind was still raging, the
rain was falling heavily and steadily.

In the dark and with the lamps burning on palely into the dim day she
breakfasted. Together with several of the men she ate in the kitchen
where a fire roared in an old stove, and where a table was placed
conveniently. Ma Drury was about, sniffling with her cold, but cooking
and serving her guests sourly, slamming down the enamelled ware in front
of them and challenging them with a look to find fault anywhere. She
reported that in some mysterious way, for which God be thanked, there
were no dead men in her house this morning. Bert Stone was alive and
showed signs of continuing to live, a thing to marvel at. And the man
whom Buck Thornton had winged, beyond displaying a sore arm and
disposition, was for the present a mere negligible and disagreeable
quantity.

Hap Smith came in from the barn while she was eating. He was going to
start right away. There was no use, however, in her attempting to make
the rest of the trip with him. His other passengers would lie over here
for a day or two. She looked at him curiously: why should she not go on?
It certainly was not pleasant to think of remaining in these cramped
quarters indefinitely.

Hap Smith, has