"Yes, the morning _after_," added the soft, even voice of Moyese. "And the snow slide filled the Pass up to the neck, forty-eight hours later. Yes, I know; but Wayland was too good a mountain man to be caught by a slide." "I told Flood to get out and examine that slide, anyway! He said 'twasn't any use, this hot weather would clean it up in a couple of weeks. He was going up the Pass when I left for the Valley yesterday." "What did you find out at the Ridge?" "That's where the milk is in this cocoanut," answered Bat. "He hasn't passed one night _at_ the Ridge since the night we were all up! You remember _who_ was at the Cabin, night we went up? Well, keep that in mind; when I went across to MacDonald's Ranch to express your regret over this accident, found old man wasn't home. He's expected back from the Upper Pass by train this week: seems he has been arranging new grazing ground for another herd up there. You know how MacDonald house is laid out? Big room as you enter; then a sort of back sitting room for," Bat smiled queerly, a smile that said nothing, yet subterraneously conveyed out to daylight one of those under currents of thought that flows only in the dark, "for the lady. Well, sir, chill blasts of North Pole were tropical zephyrs compared to what I got from that MacDonald gurl." "I thought her name was Miss MacDonald," suggested the Senator, softly. He had lowered his chin and was looking over his eye glasses at Brydges. "Hold on, Mr. Senator! I am coming to that! Her father has been away a month. I found out from Calamity and the road gang that Wayland hasn't been at the Cabin since that night I was there; and Gee Whittiker," Brydges laughed sleepily, the same smile that said nothing but came up from the subterranean under current, "he _was_ a bear with a sore head that night; spent most of the night prancing the Ridge. Well, a fellow can't exactly stand on one leg and then on t'other all through a call. She didn't ask me to sit down. Said her father was coming home by Smelter City and you could have the pleasure of conveying your sympathy personally: kept standing herself all the time; kept looking from me to the door. Well, sir, while she was looking _through_ the door behind me, I was looking _through_ the door behind her." And as Bat said it, he looked away. "Wayland's Range coat was hanging in that inner room." Bat smiled slowly and sleepily; then openly grinned as who should say "now the cat _is_ out"; but when he turned to Moyese, his chief had whirled in the swing chair and was sitting with hands clasped under his hat, and the back of his head towards Brydges.