"Well," was the reply, given with a little laugh, "as I told you this morning I am fairly strong. But it was a hard task for all that. I had to cut away quite a number of interlacing branches, and hoist you out of the crevasse with the pack ropes, then slide you down the deadfall as best I could. It took me a full hour to get you clear of the trees and safely to the ground, and all the time I was oppressed with the thought that you were dead, or would die before I could do anything to recover you. When I got you to the ground, I went through your pack and found the brandy which I saw you place there this morning. The rest you know."
Stane looked at her with eyes that glowed with admiration. "You make it a little thing," he said gratefully, "but I know what it means. You have saved my life, Miss Yardely."
The girl flushed crimson, and then laughed a little to hide her embarrassment. "Oh, as to that—we are quits, Mr. Stane."
"Not quite," he said quietly.
"What do you mean?" she asked quickly.
"Well," he answered, speaking slowly and considering every word, "I am tied here for some time—for weeks certainly. I can't move and I can't be moved. You——"
"I!" she interrupted sharply. "I shall remain here. I shall nurse you. There is nothing else to be done. I could not go forward a mile in this wilderness of trees without being lost; and I certainly couldn't find my way back to the river—even if I wanted to."
"But your uncle and friends. They will be looking for you, they will think you are lost."
"There's no help for that," she answered resolutely. "You will be able to do nothing for yourself. As you said just now you are tied here for weeks; and I am tied with you. There is simply nothing else for it. You were at my service when I needed you, and I am at your service now that you need me. I think that is all that need be said."
"Perhaps some wandering Indian may show up," he said meditatively. "Then——"