“You are off the track, and will never make the Grange unless you find it,” she said.

Winston seemed to nod.  “We are not going there,” he said, and if he added anything, it was lost in the scream of a returning gust.

Again Maud Barrington’s reason reasserted itself, and remembering the man’s history she became sensible of a curious dismay, but it also passed and left her with the vague realization that he and she were actuated alike only by the desire to escape extinction.  Presently she became sensible that the sleigh had stopped beside a formless mound of white and the man was shaking her.

“Hold those furs about you while I lift you down,” he said.

She did his bidding, and did not shrink when she felt his arms about her, while next moment she was standing knee-deep in the snow and the man shouting something she did not catch.  Team and sleigh seemed to vanish, and she saw her companion dimly for a moment before he was lost in the sliding whiteness, too.  Then a horrible fear came upon her.

It seemed a very long while before he reappeared, and thrust her in through what seemed to be a door.  Then there was another waiting before the light of a lamp blinked out, and she saw that she was standing in a little log-walled room with bare floor and a few trusses of straw in a comer.  There was also a rusty stove, and a very small pile of billets beside it.  Winston, who had closed the door, stood looking at them with a curious expression.

“Where is the team?” she gasped.

“Heading for a birch bluff or Silverdale, though I scarcely think they will get there,” said the man.  “I have never stopped here, and it wasn’t astonishing they fancied the place a pile of snow.  While I was getting the furs out, they slipped from me.”

Miss Barrington now knew where they were.  The shanty was used by the remoter settlers as a half-way house where they slept occasionally on their long journey to the railroad, and as there was a birch bluff not far away, it was the rule that whoever occupied it should replace the fuel he had consumed.  The last man had, however, not been liberal.

“But what are we to do?” she asked, with a little gasp of dismay.

“Stay here until the morning,” said Winston quietly.  “Unfortunately, I can’t even spare you my company.  The stable has fallen in, and it would be death to stand outside, you see.  In the meanwhile, pull out some of the straw and put it in the stove.”

“Can you not do that?” asked Miss Barrington, feeling that she must commence at once, if she was to keep this man at a befitting distance.

Winston laughed.  “Oh, yes, but you will freeze if you stand still, and these billets require splitting.  Still, if you have special objections to doing what I ask you, you can walk up and down rapidly.”

The girl glanced at him a moment and then lowered her eyes.  “Of course I was wrong.  Do you wish to hear that I am sorry?”