The eastern sky was stained red and purple with the rising sun, and beneath the feet of their horses the snow creaked frostily.

So they rode down the coulee and then up a long slope to the top, struck the trail and headed straight north with a low line of hills for their goal.

And in the hour and a half of riding, neither spoke a dozen words.
At the door of her own home Billy left her, and gathered up the reins of the Pilgrim's horse.

"Well, good-by.

Oh, that's all right--it wasn't any trouble at all," he said huskily when she tried to thank him, and galloped away..