others too, p'r'aps. You won't let it be. Say, I'm pinnin' my faith to
you. I'm--"

Suddenly he swayed. She caught him, held him, and lowered him gently in
a chair. Presently he opened his eyes. "It's want o' food, I suppose,"
he said. "If you've got a bit of bread and meat--I must keep up."

She went to a cupboard, but suddenly turned towards him again. Her ears
had caught a sound outside in the underbush. He had heard also, and he
half staggered to his feet.

"Quick-in here!" she said, and, opening a door, pushed him inside. "Lie
down on my bed, and I'll bring you vittles as quick as I can," she added.
Then she shut the door, turned to the ironing-board, and took up the
iron, as the figure of a man darkened the doorway.

"Hello, Jinny, fixin' up for to-morrow?" the man said, stepping inside,
with a rifle under his arm and some pigeons in his hand.

She nodded and gave him an impatient, scrutinising glance. His face had
a fatuous kind of smile.

"Been celebrating the pigeons?" she asked drily, jerking her head
towards the two birds, which she had seen drop from her Eden skies a
short time before.

"I only had one swig of whiskey, honest Injun!" he answered. "I s'pose
I might have waited till to-morrow, but I was dead-beat. I got a bear
over by the Tenmile Reach, and I was tired. I ain't so young as I used
to be, and, anyhow, what's the good! What's ahead of me? You're going