s head; and whimpered a little. After
all he was only seventeen.

Garth hoisted him to the saddle; and headed into the storm again. The
horse balked continually, sorely trying his patience. Their progress was
very slow. Garth sought to keep Charley up with cheerful speech.

"Bully for you to keep going!" he cried.

"It was because--Natalie might need me," the boy's voice trailed.

"And right on the course!" Garth sang. "How did you keep it?"

"When the snow hid your tracks--I remembered--to keep the wind on my
right cheek," he murmured.

That was the last Garth could get out of him. He was presently alarmed
to find the boy growing increasingly numb and drowsy; even he knew what
this portended in the North. He pulled him out of the saddle; and made
him walk; supporting him with one arm, while with the other he led the
horse. The animal took advantage of his partial helplessness, to plant
his legs and pull back anew. If there was ever an excuse for anger
against a dumb beast, surely hard-pressed Garth had it then. The horse
was crazed with exhaustion, and terror of the storm; and tugs and kicks
were of no avail. Garth could not bring in both boy and horse by main
strength; and in the end, with hearty curses, he was obliged to abandon
the beast to his fate.

Garth, pulling his hat over his eyes, and drawing the boy's arm across
his shoulders, doggedly pushed into the storm. He thus half supported,
half dragged his companion, who was, nevertheless, compelled to use his
own legs. Charley never spoke except now and then to beg drowsily to be
let alone. In Garth's flask was about a gill of precious stimulant, and,
when the boy's legs failed him, he doled it out in sips.

They had at least nine miles to cover--and only two hours of daylight
left. Try as he would to banish it, the sense of nine miles' distance
would roll itself interminably out before Garth's mind's eye. Nine miles
into two hours--the sum had no answer. Afterward night and storm on the
empty prairie--what was the use? But when he reached this point, he
would grit his teeth and take a fresh hold of the boy. If he had any
other defined thought besides this painful round, it was to thank God
that he was strong; he needed every ounce of it now.

Instead of attempting to pick up his own trail--surely obscured by now
in the snow--he shaped his course northwest, trusting to strike the
coulee at its nearest point, and travel down until he hit the mark he
had s