We had better go in." When she had lighted the lamp, Farnam went out and came back with a tray of bottles and glasses.
"It's not often we celebrate an event like this," he said as he opened a bottle.

"We have no wine, but this is some of our own hard cider that I meant to send to the Fruit-Growers' Exhibition.

There's nothing else good enough." He filled the glasses and with a few happy words wished Agatha success.
She thanked him and afterwards stood up, very straight but silent, and with her eyes shining softly lifted her glass above her head.

The others lifted theirs, in grave quietness, for they knew what she meant.

The pioneers touch the ridge-pole of the tent, or the roof-tree of the shack, when they drink to the memory of comrades who have gone out on the last lone trail.