t leave us alone. He left
us just before dawn, and four or five hours afterward the sheriff came.
Of course he saw the poor fellow's trail and instantly set off after
him."

"But why didn't they meet?"

"Because Mr. Smith came back a different way and then the blizzard came
on and covered up his tracks. He thinks the sheriff has gone on over the
divide. You must help him, Freeman. Help him to get away and find some
way to give him a start. Nobody could have been more considerate, and I
can't see him taken by these cold-blooded men who want that two thousand
dollars' reward. He really could have escaped, only for us. He came back
to protect us."

Ward pondered. "The problem is not so easy of solution. A train robbery
is a pretty serious matter. I'm very grateful to him, but to connive at
his escape is itself a punishable act. Why did you tell me? I could have
passed it over--"

"Because I'm afraid the sheriff may come back at any moment."

Ward's brow was troubled. "I could ignore his deed and pretend not to
know who he is, but definitely to assist a bandit to escape is a very
serious matter."

"I know it is; but remember he gave up his chance to cross the divide in
order to keep us from suffering."

"I wish you hadn't told me," he repeated, almost in irritation. "If the
sheriff only keeps on over the range Smith can take care of himself."

As the outlaw re-entered the cabin Alice acknowledged in him something
worth a woman to love. In the older man was power, security, moral,
mental, and physical health, the qualities her reason demanded in a
husband; but in the other was grace and charm, something wildly
admirable. He allured as the warrior, intrepid and graceful, allured
the maiden, as the forest calls the householder. Something primordial
and splendid and very sweet was in her feeling toward him. There could
be no peaceful wedlock there, no security of home, no comfort, only the
exquisite thrill of perilous union, the madness of a few short
weeks--perhaps only a few swift days of self-surrender, and then,
surely, disaster and despair. To yield to him was impossible, and yet
the thought of it was tantalizingly sweet.

When she looked toward Ward she perceived herself sitting serenely in
matronly grace behind a shining coffee-urn in a well-ordered, highly
civilized breakfast-room, facing a most considerate husband who
nevertheless was able to read the morning paper in her presence. When
she thought of life