in a clump of cedar close beside the trail. The snow was fresh trampled,
for the up stage had left at three o'clock. Judith and Douglas were very
cold. They hastily unharnessed, broke the ice at the little spring and
watered the horses, then rushed into the cabin. There was a bunk, covered
by soiled and ragged quilts, a table, a few cooking utensils, and boxes
for seats. They lighted a candle and unearthed canned beans, coffee, and
canned brown bread from beneath the bunk. After he had eaten his supper,
Doug grinned for the first time.

"Forgiven me, huh?" asked Judith.

Douglas nodded. "It would be darned lonely without you. You'd better get
to bed, Jude."

"Who gets the bunk?" asked Judith.

"You of course!" Douglas' voice was suddenly harsh again.

Judith sat down on the edge of the bunk. In the uncertain light of the
candle she looked all eyes.

"Doug, what is the matter lately? I never know when you're going to take
my head plumb off."

"Oh, shut up, can't you! I don't see why girls can't let a fellow alone!"

"Tell me, Doug: Why did you keep me from going with Dad on Monday
morning?"

Douglas straightened up, his back to the stove, scowled, sighed, then