who came in hand in hand like adventuring children, with the lithe,
half-fearful grace of wild things.

A tall and sallow man behind the counter smiled under his long,
ragged, blond mustache and made a gesture of polite greeting.

"Well, you've sure kept us in the dark as to your movements, Peter
Garth. We had no notion there was a bride in these parts until the
sheriff brought us back word the other day. Ma'am, I'm glad to make
your acquaintance." He glanced keenly and curiously at Sylvie's
averted face.

"I'd have been here before," she said, "but I've been suffering from
snow-blindness."

"Ah, that's bad sometimes. Your eyes are better now?"

"Y-yes, I think so."

"I can give you a first-class lotion, lady."

Sylvie and he discussed the lotion while Pete stood, drawn up, proud
and silent, his cheeks flushed, waiting to dispose of his pelts. The
bartering prolonged itself in spite of his best endeavors. Sylvie
seemed to have no sense of peril or anxiety. She insisted upon taking
a bite of early supper, forced coffee and bread and meat upon her
companion, and chatted affably. Pete saw that the Eastern stranger
had riveted upon her his attention, that he observed every gesture,
listened to every word, and while she ate, that he walked over and
asked a few murmured questions of the trader, nodding his head, then