"I guess I'm game."
"Of course you are. I saw it that first time I spoke to you. Remember?"
"On the train?" She laughed. "Indeed I do. And you told me I'd stay. Honestly, I didn't expect to then."
"No, you didn't. But you stick to what you tackle. I kind of felt that once you'd camped in Idaho it'd get a strangle hold on you somehow."
"Well, it has. Any one seeing me hanging to a doorknob all night must realize that I like Idaho pretty well." She shivered involuntarily as she spoke.
"You're half froze. As soon as they come with that grub we'll send for a blanket."
"There comes the food now. And Mrs. Kenny. Isn't she the best, though? And I look like—I don't know what."
"Like a sure-enough fighter, and that's just what Mrs. Kenny likes."
The sun had set and it was beginning to grow chilly. Most of the crowd were drifting away. With a pot of coffee in one hand, a basket of food in the other, and a big shawl over her arm, Mrs. Kenny came sailing down the street, exchanging pungent remarks with the townsfolk as she passed; she was much like a frigate going to the rescue with guns unmasked.
"For the land sakes, girlie," she exclaimed, "is it really you? Well, you're the right stuff! Howdy, Joyce? Looks like you wasn't in this deal. How about it?"