Part 37 (2/2)
”No--that's what I'm telling you. Mr. Smith came and took care of us. He brought our wood, he cooked for us, he kept our fire going. He gave up his bed, even his blankets, for us. You should be very generous to him.”
Ward again reached a hearty hand. ”I'm tremendously obliged to you.”
The outlaw quailed under all this praise. ”There was mighty little to do,” he answered. ”I only shared my fire with them.”
Ward studied him closer. ”Haven't we met before?”
”No, I reckon not.”
”I'm quite sure I've seen you somewhere. What are you doing up in here?”
Alice interposed. ”What are we going to do?”
Ward turned to the outlaw. ”What would you advise? I've only had one idea, and that was to reach this cabin. Now what would you do?”
The outlaw was ready. ”I would send a part of the men with the horses down the valley to gra.s.s and I'd wait here till Miss Mansfield is able to ride.”
”Will this snow go off?”
”That's my notion.”
”It's certain we can't camp here--the horses must have gra.s.s.”
”I'll be able to ride in a day or two,” Alice said, bravely.
”We could frame up a portable bed and carry you,” suggested the outlaw; ”but it can't be done to-night, so you'd better send your outfit down to the marsh to camp. The horses are worn out and so are the men.”
”Will you guide them to gra.s.s and help them find shelter?”
The outlaw hesitated for an instant, and Alice interposed: ”No, no! let Gage do that. I want Mr. Smith to remain here.”
Ward perceived in her entreaty something of anxiety and fear, and after the men and horses had started down the slope he turned to the outlaw and said: ”I'm mighty grateful to you, Mr. Smith. It must have surprised you to find these women here.”
The outlaw dryly replied, ”It did!”
Alice added: ”It was in the middle of the night, too; but Mr. Smith was very nice about it. He slept outdoors without a word of complaint.”
Ward had figured the situation to conclusion: ”Smith is a poacher,” and though he had a savage dislike of these illicit game-slaughterers, he could not but be glad of the presence of this particular outlaw, and resolved to overlook his trade in grat.i.tude for his cabin and service.
The outlaw helped Adams and Ward to clear away the snow for a tent, and Alice, seeing the three men thus amicably joined in her defense, could not find it in her heart to condemn one of them as a criminal. Here in the white isolation of the peaks the question of crime and its punishment became personal. To have this man's fate in her hand was like grasping the executioner's sword for herself.
”If women had to punish criminals themselves, with their own hand,” she asked, ”how many of them would do it?”
Peggy came in and whispered to her: ”No one else seems to have recognized him. He may get away safely. I hope he will. Shall we tell the men who he is?”
”Yes, we shall have to do that soon, but I'm afraid they won't take the sentimental view of him that we do. I tremble to think of what they will do when they know.”
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