They were approaching the first of the three tent-houses, over which was a
crudely painted sign which read "Otto Brothers, Guides and Outfitters." It
was a large, square tent, with weather-faded red and blue stripes, and from
it came the cheerful sound of a woman's laughter. Half a dozen
trampish-looking Airedale terriers roused themselves languidly as they drew
nearer. One of them stood up and snarled.

"They won't hurt you," assured Aldous. "They belong to Jack Bruce and
Clossen Otto--the finest bunch of grizzly dogs in the Rockies." Another
moment, and a woman had appeared in the door. "And that is Mrs. Jack Otto,"
he added under his breath. "If all women were like her I wouldn't have
written the things you have read!"

He might have added that she was Scotch. But this was not necessary. The
laughter was still in her good-humoured face. Aldous looked at his
companion, and he found her smiling back. The eyes of the two women had
already met.

Briefly Aldous explained what had happened at Quade's, and that the young
woman was leaving on the Tête Jaune train. The good-humoured smile left
Mrs. Otto's face when he mentioned Quade.

"I've told Jack I'd like to poison that man some day," she cried. "You poor
dear, come in, I'll get you a cup of tea."

"Which always means dinner in the Otto camp," added Aldous.

"I'm not so hungry, but I'm tired--so tired," he heard the girl say as she
went in with Mrs. Otto, and there was a new and strangely pathetic note in