gain he pointed, invisibly to her--"and
along it runs a band of willers--say a hundred yards from the house.
It all ain't much. I never ought to of brought you here a-tall, but
like I said, we'll do the best we can. Please don't be afraid, or
nothing."

Stripped of their harness, the wild team turned and made off at a run
down the road, through the gate and back to their own home.

"Good riddance," said Sim Gage, stooping, his hands at his cut
knee-cap. "Wid can come over here fer his own buckboard, fer all of
me."

"Take right a-holt of my arm tight, and go easy now," he added, turning
to Mary Warren. She felt his hand on her arm.

They passed around the corner of the cabin. She reached out a hand to
touch the side post as she heard the door open.

"It's a right small little place inside," said Sim Gage, "only one bunk
in it. I've got some new blankets and I'll fix it all up. Maybe
you'll want to lay down and rest a while before long.

"Over at the left is the stove--when I git the fire going you can tell
where it is, all right. Between the stove and the bunk is the table,
where we eat--I mean where I used to eat. It all ain't so big. Pretty
soon you'll learn where the things all is. It's like learning where
things is in the dark, ma'am, I suppose?"

"Yes. What time is it?" she asked suddenly. "You see, I can't tell."

"Coming on evening, ma'am. I reckon it's around three or four o'clock.
You see, I ain't got a clock. I ain't got round to gitting one yet.
Mine's just got busted recent.

"This here's a chair, ma'am," he said. "Jest set down and take it
right easy. Lay off your wraps, and I'll put 'em on the bunk. You
mustn't worry about nothing. We're here now."

By and by she felt his hand touch her sleeve.

"Here's a couple of poker sticks," said he. "I reckon maybe you'll
need to use one onct in a while to kind of feel around with. Well,
it's the same with me--I'm going to need something, kind of, my own
self. That knee's going to leave me lame a while, _I_ believe."

A sudden feeling that they two were little better than lost children
came to her as she turned toward him. A strange, swift feeling of
companionship rose in her heart. Her vague fears began to vanish.

"You're hurt," said she. "What can I do? Can't you put some witch
hazel on your knee?"

"I ain't got none, ma'am."

"Isn't there some alcohol, or anything, in the place?"

"No, ma'am--why, yes, there is too!