SHELTER FOR THE NIGHT


Night was falling as two horsemen drew rein in front of a cabin
at the edge of a clearing in the far-reaching sombre forest.
Their approach across the stump-strewn tract had been heralded by
the barking of dogs,--two bristling beasts that came out upon the
muddy, deep-rutted road to greet them with furious inhospitality.
A man stood partially revealed in the doorway. His left arm and
shoulder were screened from view by the jamb, his head was bent
forward as he peered intently through narrowed eyes at the strangers
in the road.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" he called out.

"Friends. How far is it to the tavern at Clark's Point?"

"Clark's Point is three miles back," replied the settler. "I guess
you must have passed it without seein' it," he added drily. "If
it happened to be rainin' when you come through you'd have missed
seein' it fer the raindrops. Where you bound fer?"

"Lafayette. I guess we're off the right road. We took the left turn
four or five miles back."

"You'd ought to have kept straight on. Come 'ere, Shep! You, Pete!
Down with ye!"

The two dogs, still bristling, slunk off in the direction of the
squat log barn. A woman appeared behind the man and stared out