"I stood by him when his father accused him," she murmured, "when I thought he was innocent. And now—oh, I can't! I can't give him up!" Her voice quavered pitifully, and she clutched at the hurt in her throat.
"I can't!" she gasped again. "He needs me now. He is mine! Mine!" she cried fiercely. "We will work it out together. He was weak then—but now he is strong. I will tell him that I know, and persuade him to return them. And then he will be clean—brave and strong and clean!"
She started nervously at the sound of a fumbling at the latch. Hastily catching up the bonds, she thrust them into the bosom of her gown and turned to face Blood River Jack, who entered, bearing a steaming pail of broth and a larger pail covered with a clean white cloth.
Behind him Daddy Dunnigan noisily stamped the snow from his feet. The old man hobbled to the side of the bunk and looked intently into the face of the sleeper, and, stooping, held his ear close to the man's heart.
With a satisfied nod he turned to the girl, who stood close by his side.
"He's shlaypin' foine," he said, and the little red-rimmed eyes looked straight into the eyes of blue. "But, miss, hear-rt-hunger has kilt more good min thin belly-hunger—ye'll foind th' broth in yon buckut."
He joined the half-breed, who waited in silence. At the door he turned and again addressed the girl.
"In th' big buckut's ye're oun snack. Ate ut befoor ut gits cowld. Phwin ye're done, wake um up an' make um dhrink some coffee an' all he c'n howld av th' broth. He's th' bist man in th' woods, an' ut's up to you to pull um t'rough."
Before the girl could reply the door closed and the two men were swallowed up in the storm.
Ethel was surprised to find that she was hungry, and the appetizing luncheon which old Daddy Dunnigan had carefully prepared and packed for her was soon disposed of.