Even when his eyes were on
the dark trail ahead he saw only the dusky loveliness of curved cheek,
the face luminous with a radiance some women are never privileged to
know, the rhythm of head and body and slender legs that was part of her
individual, heaven-sent charm.
The rest had finished supper before Gordon and Sheba reached camp, but
Mrs. Olson had a hot meal waiting for them.
"I fixed up the tent for the women folks--stove, sleeping-bags, plenty
of wood. Touch a match to the fire and it'll be snug as a bug in a rug,"
explained Swiftwater to Gordon.
Elliot and Sheba were to start early for Kusiak and later the rescue
party would arrive to take care of Holt and Mrs. Olson.
"Time to turn in," Holt advised. "You better light that stove, Elliot."
The young man was still in the tent arranging the sleeping-bags when
Sheba entered. He tried to walk out without touching her, intending to
call back his good-night. But he could not do it. There was something
flamey about her to-night that went to his head. Her tender, tremulous
little smile and the turn of the buoyant little head stirred in him a
lover's rhapsody.
"It's to be a long trail we cover to-morrow, Sheba.
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