n obeyed her and fell back, but they were consumed with curiosity,
and their glances irritated the girl. "Slip the packs at once," she
insisted.

With instant sympathy her mother came to her aid in supporting the
wounded, weary youth indoors, and as he stretched out on the couch in the
sitting-room, he remarked, with a faint, ironic smile: "This beats any
bed of balsam boughs."

"Where's your father?" asked Mrs. McFarlane of her daughter.

"He's over on the Ptarmigan. I've a powerful lot to tell you, mother; but
not now; we must look after Wayland. He's nearly done up, and so am I."

Mrs. McFarlane winced a little at her daughter's use of Norcross's first
name, but she said nothing further at the moment, although she watched
Berrie closely while she took off Wayland's shoes and stockings and
rubbed his icy feet. "Get him something hot as quick as you can!" she
commanded; and Mrs. McFarlane obeyed without a word.

Gradually the tremor passed out of his limbs and a delicious sense of
warmth, of safety, stole over him, and he closed his eyes in the comfort
of her presence and care. "Rigorous business this life of the pioneer,"
he said, with mocking inflection. "I think I prefer a place in the lumber
trust."

"Don't talk," she said. Then, with a rush of tender remorse: "Why didn't
you tell me to stop? I didn't realize that you were so tired. We could
have stopped at the Springs."

"I didn't know how tired I was till I got here. Gee," he said, boyishly,
"that door-knob at the back of my head is red-hot! You're good to me," he
added, humbly.

She hated to have him resume that tone of self-depreciation, and,
kneeling to him, she kissed his cheek, and laid her head beside his.
"You're splendid," she insisted. "Nobody could be braver; but you should
have told me you were exhausted. You fooled me with your cheerful
answers."

He accepted her loving praise, her clasping arms, as a part of the rescue
from the darkness and pain of the long ride, careless of what it might
bring to him in the future. He ate his toast and drank his coffee, and
permitted the women to lead him to his room, and then being alone he
crept into his bed and fell instantly asleep.

Berrie and her mother went back to the sitting-room, and Mrs. McFarlane
closed the door behind them. "Now tell me all about it," she said, in the
tone of one not to be denied.

The story went along very smoothly till the girl came to the second night
in camp beside the