Alice said: “If it does turn out as this—this ranger says—if the storm keeps up, you mustn’t let him sleep out in the snow.”
“Of course not,” said Peggy. “He can sleep inside. I trust him perfectly—and, besides, you have your revolver.”
Alice smiled a little, wondering how Peggy’s trust would stand the strain of a fuller knowledge concerning their guardian’s stirring career.
III
In spite of her knowledge of the mountains and her natural intrepidity of character the wounded girl’s heart sank as the snow and the night closed down over the tiny cabin in its covert of firs. To be on foot in such gloom in the heart of such a wilderness, was sufficiently awe-inspiring, but to be helpless on a hard bed was to feel the utter inconsequence of humankind. “Suppose the storm blocks the trails so that the men cannot return for a week? What will we do for food?”
Each time she heard the outlaw deliver his burden of wood her heart warmed to him. He was now her comfort and very present stay. “If it should happen that the trails become impassable he alone will stand between us and death,” she thought.
The outlaw came in to say, abruptly, “If you weren’t hurt and if I weren’t in such a hurry I’d rather enjoy this.”
He slashed his sombrero against his thigh as he spoke, and Mrs. Adams answered his remark without knowledge of its inner meaning.
“You mustn’t think of sleeping outdoors to-night—Mr.——?”
“Smith. I belong to the big family, the Smiths,” he promptly replied.