“Yes,” he smiled’ from the doorway. “Come here, little partner.” And when she had obediently joined him her eye followed his finger up the mountain-trail to a bend round which men and horses were coming. “It’s a relief-party,” he said, and caught up his field-glasses to look them over more certainly. Two men on horseback, leading a third animal, were breaking a way down the trail, black spots against the background of white. “I guess Fort Salvation’s about to be relieved,” he added grimly, following the party through the glasses. She touched the back of his hand with a finger. “Are you glad?” she asked softly. “No, by Heaven!” he cried, lowering his glasses swiftly. As he looked into her eyes the blood rushed to his brain with a surge. Her face turned to his unconsciously, and their lips met. “And I don’t even know your name,” she murmured. “Waring Ridgway; and yours?” “Aline Hope,” she said absently. Then a hot Rush ran over the girlish face. “No, no, I had forgotten. I was married last week.” The gates of paradise, open for two days, clanged to on Ridgway. He stared out with unseeing eyes into the silent wastes of snow. The roaring in his ears and the mountainsides that churned before his eyes were reflections of the blizzard raging within him. “I’ll never forget—never,” he heard her falter, and her voice was a thousand miles away. From the storm within him he was aroused by a startled cry from the girl at his side. Her fascinated gaze was fixed on the summit of the ridge above them. There was a warning crackle. The overhanging comb snapped, slid slowly down, and broke off. With gathering momentum it descended, sweeping into its heart rocks, trees, and debris. A terrific roar filled the air as the great white cloud came tearing down like an express-train. Ridgway caught her round the waist and flung the girl against the wall of the cabin, protecting her with his body. The avalanche was upon them, splitting great trees to kindling-wood in the fury of its rush. The concussion of the wind shattered every window to fragments, almost tore the cabin from its foundations. Only the extreme tail of the slide touched them, yet they were buried deep in flying snow. He found no great difficulty in digging a way out, and when he lifted her to the surface she was conscious. Yet she was pale even to the lips and trembled like an aspen in the summer breeze, clinging to him for support helplessly. His cheerful voice rang like a bugle to her shocked brain. “It’s all past. We’re safe now, dear—quite safe.” The first of the trail-breakers had dismounted and was plowing his way hurriedly to the cabin, but neither of them saw him as he came up the slope. “Are you sure?” She shuddered, her hands still in his. “Wasn’t it awful? I thought—” Her sentence trailed out unfinished.