“Oh no, thank you.”
“How many men are in your party?”
“Six, counting the guides.”
“Who are the men?”
She named them, and he mused darkly, his eyes on her face. “I reckon I can’t wait to make their acquaintance. I’m going on down the Green River to-day. I’m sorry to miss ’em. They must be a nice bunch—to leave two women alone this way.”
He ate heartily, but with a nicety which betrayed better training than is usual to men in his position. He remained silent and in deep thought, though his eyes were often on Alice’s face.
As he rose to go he said to Peggy: “Would you mind doing up a little grub for me? I don’t know just when I’ll strike another camp.”
“Why, of course! I’ll be glad to. Do you have to go?”
“Yes, I must pull out,” he replied, and while she was preparing his lunch he rolled a blanket and tied it behind his saddle. At last he re-entered the cabin and, again advancing to Alice’s bedside, musingly remarked: “I hate to leave you women here alone. It doesn’t seem right. Are you sure your party will return to-night?”
“Either to-night or to-morrow. Professor Ward intends to climb Frémont Peak.”