I was a handsome fellow then. I'm going to take the pelts."

Pete looked dumbly up at him, his lips parted. Bella twisted her
apron about her hands. Both seemed to know the hopelessness of
protest. In the same anxious dumbness they watched Garth make ready
for his trip. As he pulled his cap down close about his ears, Pete
at last found his voice.

"Hugh," he began doubtfully, "I wish you wouldn't risk it. We can
get on without supplies until next trading-day, when I'll surely be
all right."

"Hold your tongue! I'm going," was the answer. "I tell you, the spirit
of adventure has me. Who knows what I may meet with out there?" He
flung back the door and, pointing with a long arm, stood silhouetted
against the dazzle.

"Beauty? Opportunity? Danger? Hope? Death? I shan't shirk it this
time. I'll meet whatever comes. But--" He came back a step into the
room. His harsh face melted to a shamefaced gentleness; his voice
softened. "If they get me down there, if I _don't_ come back, you
two try to think kindly of me, will you? I know what you think of
me now. I know you won't see me as I am--no one but God will ever
do me that kindness; but you two--be easy with me in your memories."

Bella, her arms now twisted to their red elbows in her apron, took
a few stiff steps across the floor. Her face was expressionless, her
eyes lowered. Garth smiled at them both and went out, shutting the
door. They heard him singing as he put on his skis: