was all smiles. The storm of the
evening before had given place to brilliant sunshine. She ignored all
winks and nudgings among her boarders, and did not scruple to point out
to Bidwell the choicest biscuit on the plate, and to hand him the
fattest slice of bacon, all of which he accepted without elation.

"Old Sherm must be one o' these hypnotical chaps," said Johnson as they
were lighting their pipes in the sitting-room. "He's converted the widow
into another helping. He's goin' to get his flour and bacon all right!"

"You bet he is, and anything else he wants. Beats me what she finds in
that old side-winder, anyhow."

"Oh, Sherm isn't so worse if he had a decent outfit."

Bidwell was deeply touched by Maggie's clemency, and would have put his
feelings into the best terms he was familiar with, but the widow stopped
him.

"The best way to thank me is to hustle out and trail up that flo-at. If
it's there, find it. If it's not there, give o'er the search, for ye are
a gray man, Sherm Bidwell, and I'm not the woman I was eight years ago."

In the exaltation of the moment Bidwell rose, and his shoulders were
squared as he said: "I'm a-goin', Maggie. If I find it I'll come back
and marry you. If I don't--I'll lay my useless old bones in the hills."

"Ah--go 'long! Don't be a crazy fool!" she said, but her face flushed
with pleasure at the sincerity of his tone. "Ye've made such promises
ivery time before."

"I know I have, but I mean it now."

"Aho! so that's the way of it--ye didn't mean it before? Is that phwat
ye're sayin'?"

His proud pose collapsed. "You know what I mean--only you're such a
tormentin' little devil."

"Thank ye for the compliment, Mr. Bidwell."

Bidwell turned. "I'm going after old Nebuchadnezzar," he said, firmly.
"I can't waste time on a chicken-headed woman--"

"Out wid ye before I break the measly head of ye!" she retorted.

An hour later, with his mule packed with food and blankets and tools, he
moved off up the trail. The other men stood to watch him go, consumed
with curiosity, yet withholding all question.

The widow did not so much as look from the door as her grub-staker
disappeared.

II

Three days later Bidwell crept stealthily down the trail, leading his
mule as silently as possible. He timed his arrival so that Mrs. Delaney
would be in the kitchen alone with the Chinaman, getting the dishes
ready for breakfast.

"Who is ut?" called the widow as he softly knocked.