"What; so soon?" exclaimed Pete.
"Yes, it is necessary."
"But what about the 'Colonel'?"
"He must go to Klassan. Will you take him? He has a good cabin there, I understand, and a fair supply of provisions, so he and his daughter will be quite comfortable."
Pete ran his fingers through his hair in an abstracted manner. "I'd take'm, laddie, an' be glad of the job, but I ain't got no team. An' besides, is the "Colonel" able to stand the jant?"
"In two weeks I think it might be tried. You see, Miss Radhurst is a trained nurse, and she can look after his arm very well. As for a team, you need not worry about that, for I'll send an Indian back with my own dogs. I know it will mean a risk to move the patient so far, but if he stays here I am afraid he will die."
Pete stretched out his rough hand toward the missionary. "Put it thar, laddie," he said, in a voice that trembled with emotion, "ye're all gold."
Thus in the silence of the little cabin these two hardy frontiersmen clasped hands. Outside, the world lay cold and dismal, but in their honest hearts reigned a great peace—"the peace of God which passeth understanding."