Piece after piece of his gathered wood Caleb fed to the blaze; Desirée leaning back, deliciously warm and happy, to encourage the labor. A second journey into the dark and Conover was back with more fuel, which he piled in reserve beyond the reach of the flame tongues. “You work like a veteran woodsman,” she praised. “Why wouldn’t I?” he puffed, dragging in a new bunch of long boughs for the reserve pile. “I had to hustle fires an’ grub for the section gang, ten months or more, when I was a youngster. That’s why it seems funny to me that folks should pay big money for a chance of chasin’ out to the wilderness an’ doin’ the chores _I_ used to get $1.85 a day for. Still, once in a lifetime, it comes in handy to know how.” The heat was fierce. Caleb drew back from the fire, mopping his red face. Then he took off his tweed jacket. Crossing to Desirée, he lifted his mackintosh from her shoulders and made her put on the jacket. The latter’s hem fell to her knees. Conover rolled back its sleeves until her engulfed hands were once more visible. Then he spread the mackintosh on the ground near the fire; incidentally dislodging Rex from a carefully chosen bed. “There!” proclaimed the Fighter. “_That’s_ done. Now you’ve a camp bed. Lay down on that mackintosh an’ I’ll wrap you up in it. You won’t catch cold, even if the fire dies out. Which same it won’t; for I’m goin’ to set up an’ keep it burnin’.” “In other words,” she said with the stern air of rebuke that he loved, “I am going to curl up in all the wraps there are and go fast to sleep, while you sit up all night long and keep the fire going? I think I see myself doing it!” “If we had a lookin’ glass along,” he answered, unruffled, “you could. As it is, you’ll just have to take my word for it. I’ll set back on that stump where you are now, an’ I’ll have that big trunk to rest my head on. An’ I’ll sleep a blamed sight better’n I ever do in a Pullman. When I feel cold I’ll know the fire’s dyin’ down an’ I’ll get up an’ tend it, an’ then go to sleep again. It’s a--” “You’ll do nothing of the sort!” contradicted Desirée. “I’ll--” “Listen, you little girl,” put in Caleb with rough tenderness. “I like nothin’ so well, as a rule, as to let you boss me. But here’s the one time that _I’m_ goin’ to do the bossin’. You’re tired out, an’ you’re li’ble to take cold unless you keep wrapped up an’ get a good comf’tble sleep. An’ you’re goin’ to get it. Don’t you worry ’bout _me_, neither. By the time I’ve been restin’ ’gainst that tree trunk five minutes I’ll be in the arms of old Morpheus. It seems a kind of measly trick to put up on Morpheus, whoever he may be. But it’s what I’m goin’ to do.” The quiet mastery of the man permitted no argument. Indeed, Desirée for some strange reason felt herself unaccountably stirred by it. “Now,” he went on, “one more armful of this stuff on the pile an’ then I’ll warm the mackintosh for you by the fire an’ let you go to sleep. I wish I’d wore a vest to-day.”