As Mormon Joe unwrapped the lead-rope from the saddle horn and took the horses away to picket, he wondered what wonderful adventure she would have to relate, for she seemed able to extract entertainment from nearly anything. By the time he returned she had removed her hat, gloves and spurs, washed her dust-streaked face, smoothed her hair, slipped on an enveloping apron over her riding clothes and had the chops frying. The sight warmed his heart as he paused for a moment outside the circle of light which came through the entrance. He had seen the same thing often before, but it never had impressed him particularly. Her presence in the canvas tent made the difference between home and a mere shelter. The small crumbs of bread he had cast upon the water were indeed coming back to him. "I've ridden over forty miles since morning," she chattered, while he flung the snow flakes from his hat brim and brushed them from his shoulders. "The wind blew the horses' tracks out so I couldn't follow them. I never caught sight of them until just this side of Prouty. You can sit down, Uncle Joe--everything's ready." They talked of the coming snowstorm, and the advisability of holding the sheep on the bed-ground if it should be a bad one; of the trip to town that he was contemplating; of the coyote that was bothering and the possibility of trapping him. There was no dearth of topics of mutual interest. Nevertheless, Mormon Joe knew that she was holding something in reserve and wondered at this reticence. It came finally when they had finished and still lingered at the table. "Who do you suppose I met to-day when I was hunting horses?" "Teeters?" Mormon Joe was tearing a leaf from his book of cigarette papers. "Guess again." He shook his head. "Can't imagine." She announced impressively: "Mrs. Toomey!" He was distributing tobacco from the sack upon the crease in the paper with exactitude. He made no comment, so Kate said with increased emphasis: "She was crying!" Still he was silent, and she demanded: "Aren't you surprised?" She looked crestfallen, so he asked obligingly: "Where did all of this happen?" "In a draw a couple of miles this side of Prouty, where I found the horses. They had gone there to get out of the wind and it was by only a chance that I rode down into it. "She was in the bottom, huddled against a rock, and didn't see me until I was nearly on her. I thought she was sick--she looked terrible." "And was she?" "No--she was worried." "Naturally. Any woman would be who married Toomey." "About money." "Indeed." His tone and smile were ironic. Kate, a trifle disconcerted, continued: "He's had bad luck." "He's had the best opportunities of any man who's come into the country." "Anyway," she faltered, "they haven't a penny except when they sell something." He shrugged a shoulder, then asked teasingly: "Well--what were you thinking of doing about it?"