the question of food alone that disturbed him. At last he
laid his troubles before Harry King.

"You know, lad, it won't be so long before the snow will be down on
us, and I'm thinking what shall we do with them when the long winter
days set in." He nodded his head toward the cabin. "It's already
getting too cold for them to sit out of doors as they do. I should
have windows in my cabin--if I could get the glass up here. They can't
live there in the darkness, with the snow banked around them, with
nothing to use their fingers on as women like to do. Now, if they had
cloth or thread--but what use had I for such things? They're not
among my stores. I did not lay out to make it a home for women. The
mother will get farther and farther astray with her dreams if she has
nothing to do such as women like."

"I think we should ask them--or ask Amalia, she is wise. Have you
enough to keep them on--of food?"

"Of food, yes. Such as it is. No flour, but plenty of good wheat and
corn. I always pound it up and bake it, but it is coarse fare for
women. There's plenty of game for the hunting, and easy got, but it's
something to think about we'll need, else we'll all go loony."

"You have lived long here alone and seem sound of mind,--except for--"
Harry King smiled, "except for a certain unworldliness that would pass
for lunacy in the world below these heights."

"Let alone, son. I've usually had my own way for these years and have
formed the habit, but I've had my times. At the best it's a sort of
lunacy that takes a man away from his fellows, especially an Irishman.
Maybe you'll discover for yourself before we part--but it's not to the
point now. I'm asking you how we can keep the mother from brooding and
the daughter happy? She's asking to be sent away to earn money for her
mother. She thinks she can take her mother with her to the nearest
place on that new railroad you tell me of, and so on to some town. I
tell her, no. And if she goes, and leaves her mother here--bless
you--what would we do with her? Why, the woman would go yonder and
jump over the cliff."

"Oh, it would never do to listen to her. It would never do for her to
try living in a city earning her bread--not while--" Harry King paused
and turned a white, drawn face toward the mountain. Larry watched
him. "I can do nothing." He threw out his hands with a sudden downward
movement. "I, a criminal in hiding! My manhood is of no avail! My
God!"

"Remember, lad, th