She had pictured him a ruffian in thought, speech,
and deed. His language cleared him on one count, and she observed that
almost his first thought was for her comfort, albeit he made no sort of
apology for handling her so roughly in the gloom beyond the fire.
"I got lost," she explained, growing suddenly calm. "I was out
walking, and lost my way."
"Easy thing to do when you don't know timber," Bill remarked. "And in
consequence you haven't had any supper; you've been scared almost to
death--and probably all of Cariboo Meadows is out looking for you.
Well, you've had an adventure. That's worth something. Better eat a
bite, and you'll feel better."
He turned over the piece of meat on the coals while he spoke. Hazel
saw that it lay on two green sticks, like a steak on a gridiron. It
was quite simple, but she would never have thought of that. The meat
exhaled savory odors. Also, the warmth of the fire seemed good. But--
"I'd rather be home," she confessed.
"Sure! I guess you would--naturally. I'll see that you get there,
though it won't be easy. It's no snap to travel these woods in the
dark. You couldn't have been so far from the Meadows. How did it come
you didn't yell once in a while?"
"I didn't think it was necessary," Hazel admitted, "until it began to
get dark.
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