“Well, you see—I—it was——” and there I halted lamely. I couldn’t discuss the ethics of my flight with this self-sufficient young woman. My grounds for self-justification in that particular instance, were rather untenable. I couldn’t explain the psychology of the thing to her, when I couldn’t quite grasp it myself. I couldn’t honestly admit that I had refused to stay and face the consequences of Tupper’s sudden end at my hands because I was overwhelmed with fear. I didn’t believe that myself. Even if I had believed it, I would have been ashamed to admit frankly to that gray-eyed girl that I had run away because I was afraid. It had been a peculiar situation for me, one that I could hardly attempt to make clear to her. With Barreau it had been different. He seemed to understand, to divine how and why I did such and such a thing at such a time and place, with but a meager explanation from me. Certain effects invariably led him intuitively to first causes. Moreover, with her I seemed to be put upon the defensive. I found myself reflecting on what she would do in such a case, and instantly deciding that Miss Jessie Montell would defy the devil and all his works if she thought herself in the right. In addition thereto I felt that she was unconsciously appraising me and classing me as a weakling; and that, added to my own half-formed conviction that in time of trial I was likely to prove so, made me a most uncomfortable individual for a few moments. Montell’s entrance saved me from a rather unwelcome situation. There is no knowing how deep a tangle I should have got myself into—she was so uncompromisingly direct. Montell, however, opened the door at the crucial period, and she turned to him with a recital of the huskies’ outbreak, lighting a cluster of candles as she talked. “If you don’t shut up those ferocious brutes, or feed them a little oftener,” she concluded, “they’ll devour somebody one of these days, and there won’t be so much as a moccasin left to tell the tale.” At which extravagant forecast we all three laughed, and I felt myself equal to the occasion once more. The upshot of this dog episode was that I stayed to supper with them, and went to my own cabin rather late in the evening. CHAPTER XV—STRANGERS TWAIN My arm was somewhat swollen, and it throbbed like an ulcerated tooth, when I got up the following morning, but I made shift to build a fire. When the icy chill was banished from the room, I dressed, and was getting what comfort I could out of a smoke when Montell knocked at my door, bringing a cold gust of air when he entered. “Oho,” said he, “stirrin’ round, eh? This ain’t much like home, is it? How’s the arm?” I told him briefly, having little inclination to enlarge on that theme—the pain was sufficient without the aggravation of discussing it.