But
come now, don't you want to go to bed? I can put you up for the night,
what there's left of it; it's nearly morning now."
The old man yawned sleepily, and was easily persuaded to go to bed.
When the old man was safely out of the way Fred put his revolver back
where he had found it. The irony of the situation came home to him--he
had gone out to kill, but in a mysterious way it had been given to him
to save instead of take life. But what good was anything to him now?--
the old man had come one day too late.
At daylight, contrary to all expectations, the storm went down, only
the high packed drifts giving evidence of the fury of the night before.
As soon as the morning came Fred put on his father-in-law's coat,
having left his in the snow, and went over to the Black Creek Stopping-
House. Mrs. Corbett was the only person who could advise him.
He walked into the kitchen, which was never locked, just as Mrs.
Corbett, carrying her boots in her hand as if she were afraid of
disturbing someone, came softly down the stairs.
Mrs. Corbett had determined to tell Fred what a short-sighted, jealous-
minded man he was when she saw him, but one look at his haggard face--
for the events of the previous night were telling on him now--made her
forget that she had any feeling toward him but sympathy. She read the
question in his eyes which his lips were afraid to utter.
"She's here, Fred, safe and sound," she whispered.
"Oh, Mrs. Corbett," he whispered in return, "I've been an awful fool!
Did she tell you? Will she ever forgive me, do you think?"
"Ask her!" said Mrs.
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