It will be slow going, of course--lame as he is--but I guess we can manage to get somewhere." He waited for the chill, impersonal reply.

When she did not speak, he leaned and peered at the spot where he knew she must be.

"If you want to try it, we'd better be starting," he urged sharply.

"It's going to be pretty cold here on this side-hill." When there was silence still--and he gave her plenty of time for reply--Ford stooped and felt gropingly for her, thinking she must be asleep.

He glanced back at Rambler; unless the horse had moved, she should have been just there, under his hands; or, he thought, she may have moved to some other spot, and be waiting in the dark to see what he would do.