"And I will never tell!" she declared; "I will never admit it!" she added, exultingly. "You'll change your mind about marrying me--you'll have to, to save your neck!" Lawler shook his head negatively. "You wouldn't marry me to save your life?" asked the girl, incredulously. "Not to save my life, Miss Wharton." "Well," she said slowly; "you're a damned fool!" Lawler smiled and turned away. He heard Della moving about in the cabin, but he did not look around. But later, after there had been a deep silence for a time, he ventured a backward glance. During the day he had kept the dividing blanket rolled up out of the way, fastening it with two loops that he had suspended from the ceiling. The blanket was now down--it was the first time Della had touched it. Lawler smiled, pulled a chair over near the fireplace, rolled a cigarette, and puffed slowly at it, reflecting that life in the cabin would now be more monotonous than ever. Della did not get out of her bunk during the day. She ate nothing, nor did she reply to Lawler when he invited her to partake of the food he had prepared. Late that afternoon Lawler noted a glow of light coming through the north window. He went to the door, opened it and looked out. The snow had ceased and the wind had gone down. Far over in the west a cold sun, hanging its rim on a mountain peak, bathed the world with a shimmering, glittering, blinding light. Lawler went outside and shielding his eyes with his hands, peered out over the gleaming waste. He noted that the snow had drifted much, but that there were ridges where no snow had settled, as well as vast sections of plain where the wind had swept the snow clear. There would be no difficulty in reaching Willets, for the wind that was coming over the plains now was mild--almost warm. He went inside, told Della, and began to make preparations for the ride. And later that night, moving swiftly northward, under straggling clouds that obscured the moon, the two journeyed--Della swathed in clothing that assured her of warmth, and still preserving a sullen silence; Lawler riding ahead, breaking trail. CHAPTER XXIV DELLA'S HANDKERCHIEF Dawn was just breaking when Lawler dropped from Red King at the windbreak near the line cabin. He put the big horse in the dugout, closed the dugout door and entered the cabin. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. There were still some glowing embers in the fireplace, and he soon had a roaring fire, in front of which he stood for a while, meditating. He had got Della Wharton into the Willets Hotel without, he felt certain, attracting attention. For when they had ridden into town--taking the back way in order to avoid any sleepless citizens that might be about--it was past midnight. Lawler had timed himself to reach town at about that hour, knowing that with the exception of a brothel or two, Willets would be dark.