“He’s out there on the cold ground—with only one blanket.”
“What a shame! Tell him to come inside—I’m not afraid of him.”
“Neither am I—but I don’t believe he’ll come. It’s ’most morning, anyway—perhaps I’d better not disturb him.”
“Take one of these quilts to him—that will help some.”
Mrs. Adams lifted one of the coverlets and, stealing softly up, was spreading it over the sleeper when he woke with a start, a wild glare of alarm in his eyes.
“Oh, it’s you!” he said in relief. Then he added, as he felt the extra cover: “That’s mighty white of you. Sure you don’t need it?”
“We can spare it. But won’t you come inside? I’m sorry we drove you out of your cabin.”
“That’s all right. I’m used to this. Good night. I’m just about dead for sleep.”
Thus dismissed, Peggy went back and lay down beside Alice. “He says he’s quite comfortable,” she remarked, “and I hope he is, but he doesn’t look it.”
When she woke again it was broad daylight and Alice was turning restlessly on her hard bed. In the blaze of the sun all the mystery of the night vanished. The incident of the return of the ranger to his cabin was as natural as the coming of dawn.