“You’ve never eaten a meal there. I see that. It’s impossible. No, it’s all settled. You’re coming to the ranch.” “Of course you know I can’t ... I can’t ... thank you.” His voice shook. This annoyed him. He told himself savagely not to act like a baby. “Oh, everybody works at the Diamond Bar K,” she said lightly. “Ruthie can’t go to school through the deep snow. You claim to be a college man. We’ll find out whether you can teach the First Reader and two times two.” He tried to answer in the same spirit. “If you’re going to call every bluff I make, I’ll be more careful. Anyhow, I didn’t study the First Reader at college. Don’t think they teach it at Massachusetts Tech.” Later in the day he spoke to Reed on the subject. “I don’t want to make a nuisance of myself. I can put up at the Wild Horse House till I’m strong enough to go back to camp.” Reed had come out of the old-time cattle days when there were always a plate and a bed at the ranch for whoever might want them. He still kept open house. “Always room for one more, boy. Anyhow, if Betty’s got it fixed up that way in her mind, you’d as well make up yours to do as she says. It’ll be her say-so.” The owner of the Diamond Bar K grinned at him confidentially, as one fellow victim of feminine tyranny to another. Forbes arrived late in the afternoon and reported heavy roads. He had brought a four-horse team, and it had been all they could do to break through. They had dragged a sled with the body of a wagon on the wide runners. “Deep drifts below the rim in the cut the other side o’ Round Top. Be all right if the wind don’t blow to-night,” he said. The wind blew, and was still whistling when it came time to start. But the sun was shining and the sky clear. Betty was doubtful, on account of the patient. “If we wrop him up good, he’ll be all right,” Lon said. The big foreman did not want to stay in the hills until the trail he had broken was filled up again with drifts. “Yes,” agreed Reed. Tug and Betty were tucked in with warm blankets. Forbes took the reins and drove out of the draw, past the Howard place, and up the steep hill beyond. Betty had seen to it that her patient was wrapped to the nose in an old fur coat of her father. The whipping wind did not distress him. From the summit they could see the great white wastes, stretching mile on mile. The snow was soft and heavy, and the wind had not drifted it a great deal since Lon had driven through the previous day. But the horses were pulling a load, and soon the sweat stood out on their bodies. They reached and circled Round Top, passed a treacherous dugway, and moved into the deep drifts below the rim. Betty looked up once and a little shudder ran down her spine. The wind up on the bluff had a clean sweep. Over the edge yawned a great snow comb that might at any moment loosen and come down to bury them in an immense white mausoleum. It might, on the other hand, hang from the rim for months.