The room seemed suddenly cold, and she stared, unseeing, at her bloodless finger-tips. She tried to think--to concentrate her mind upon the present--but her brain refused to act, and she muttered helplessly: "The bonds--the bonds--he took the bonds!" Like one in a dream, she arose and replenished the fire in the little air-tight. It had burned almost to ashes. She watched the yellow flames lick hungrily at the bubbling pitch of the knot she had thrown upon the coals, and glanced from the flaring flames to the little pile of green papers--and back again at the little flames that climbed higher about the resinous chunk. "Why not?" she muttered. "They can never prove he took them, and he would think that they were lost." For a long time she sat, thinking, and then she closed the stove and returned to the desk. "I stood by him when his father accused him," she murmured, "when I thought he was innocent. And now--oh, I can't! I can't give him up!" Her voice quavered pitifully, and she clutched at the hurt in her throat. "I can't!" she gasped again. "He needs me now. He is mine! _Mine!_" she cried fiercely. "We will work it out together. He was weak then--but now he is strong. I will tell him that I know, and persuade him to return them. And then he will be clean--brave and strong and _clean_!" She started nervously at the sound of a fumbling at the latch. Hastily catching up the bonds, she thrust them into the bosom of her gown and turned to face Blood River Jack, who entered, bearing a steaming pail of broth and a larger pail covered with a clean white cloth. Behind him Daddy Dunnigan noisily stamped the snow from his feet. The old man hobbled to the side of the bunk and looked intently into the face of the sleeper, and, stooping, held his ear close to the man's heart. With a satisfied nod he turned to the girl, who stood close by his side. "He's shlaypin' foine," he said, and the little red-rimmed eyes looked straight into the eyes of blue. "But, miss, hear-rt-hunger has kilt more good min thin belly-hunger--ye'll foind th' _broth_ in yon buckut." He joined the half-breed, who waited in silence. At the door he turned and again addressed the girl. "In th' big buckut's ye're oun snack. Ate ut befoor ut gits cowld. Phwin ye're done, wake um up an' make um dhrink some coffee an' all he c'n howld av th' broth. He's th' bist man in th' woods, an' ut's up to you to pull um t'rough." Before the girl could reply the door closed and the two men were swallowed up in the storm. Ethel was surprised to find that she was hungry, and the appetizing luncheon which old Daddy Dunnigan had carefully prepared and packed for her was soon disposed of. The hands of the little alarm-clock pointed to two as she crossed and knelt at the side of the sleeping man. She leaned over and kissed his forehead--his lips--and whispered softly into his ear. "Bill--Bill, _dear_."