She reached out a hand. "I want to carry the fish," said she. "Let me, please. I want to do something."
He passed the basket strap over her shoulder for her, Tim following on behind, panting, as guardian of the spoils. "You're a good sport," said Major Barnes. "One of the best I ever saw, and I saw a lot of them over there."
She was stumbling forward through the sage as best she might, tripping here and there, sweeping her skirts now and again from the ragged branches which caught against them. He took her hand in his to lead her. It lay light and warm in his own—astonishingly light and warm, as suddenly he realized. She had pushed the sunbonnet back from her forehead as she would have done had she been desirous of seeing better. He noted the color of her cheeks, the regularity of her features, the evenness of her dark brows, the wholly pleasing contour of her figure, as she stumbled bravely along at his side.
"You're fine!" he repeated, suddenly. "You're fine! I expect to see you live to bless the day you came here. I expect to hear you say yet that you're glad you're alive—not alive just because it was your duty to live. Don't talk to me any more about duty."
He was striding along excitedly. "Not too fast!" she panted, holding fast to his hand.
And so they came presently to the cabin door again, and saw Sim Gage perched high on a load of logs, coming down the lane.
"I'm going to put the new cabin for the men right over there," said Doctor Barnes. "And when Annie Squires comes—why, we're going to have the grandest little ranch here you ever saw. And, of course, I can telephone up every once in a while."
"Telephone?" said she vaguely. "Then you won't be coming up yourself?"