"Health is cheap with me," he smilingly replied. "But I get so lonesome sometimes that I pretty near quit and go out. Do you intend to stay here all winter?"
"We expect to."
He thought it well to warn her. "The snow falls deep in this valley—terribly deep."
She showed some uneasiness. "I know it, but I'm going to learn to snow-shoe."
"I wish you'd let me come over and teach you."
"Can you snow-shoe? I thought rangers always rode horseback."
He smiled. "You've been reading the opposition press. A forest ranger who is on the job has got to snow-shoe like a Canuck or else go down the valley after the snow begins to fall. It was five feet deep around my cabin last year. I hate to think of your being here alone. If one of you should be sick, it would be—tough. Unless you absolutely have to stay here, I advise you to go down the creek."
"Perhaps our neighbors and not the snow will drive us out," she replied. "They've already served notice."
He looked startled. "What do you mean by that?"
Without answering, she went to the bookshelf and took down a folded sheet of paper. "Here is a letter I got yesterday," she explained, as she handed it to him.