The sun set gloriously, but the air bit ever sharper, and while Peggy went about her cooking, assisted by her husband and the outlaw, Alice pulled Ward down to her bedside and hurriedly began:
“You remember that placard we read in the station—the one about the train-robber?”
“Yes!”
“Well, this is the man—our Mr. Smith.”
Ward looked at her a moment with reflective eyes, then exclaimed: “You’re right! I thought I’d seen him somewhere.”
“And the sheriff is after him. He was here yesterday morning.”
“Here?”
“Yes. You see, Mr. Smith stayed with us till he thought the storm was over, then rode away, intending to cross the divide, but when the snow began again he turned back. He said he couldn’t leave us alone. He left us just before dawn, and four or five hours afterward the sheriff came. Of course he saw the poor fellow’s trail and instantly set off after him.”
“But why didn’t they meet?”
“Because Mr. Smith came back a different way and then the blizzard came on and covered up his tracks. He thinks the sheriff has gone on over the divide. You must help him, Freeman. Help him to get away and find some way to give him a start. Nobody could have been more considerate, and I can’t see him taken by these cold-blooded men who want that two thousand dollars’ reward. He really could have escaped, only for us. He came back to protect us.”