"I know men hate to cook, so when I get warm, and the water is hot, I'll cook supper for you," she offered.

"And then I won't mind having you help me to get home." "I guess it won't be any trouble--but I don't mind cooking.

You--you better set still and rest," murmured Charming Billy, quite red.

Of course, she would want supper--and there were dried apricots, and a very little tapioca! He felt viciously that he could kill the Pilgrim and be glad.

The Pilgrim was already two days late with the supplies he had been sent after because he was not to be trusted with the duties pertaining to a line-camp--and Billy had not the wide charity that could conjure excuses for the delinquent.
"I'll let you wash the dishes," promised Miss Bridger generously.