depot, not quite at the foot of the mountain; and at the station was the agent’s wife, who was a friendly little person.  Marion had made it a point to mention the agent’s wife in an intimate, personal way, as though she were in the habit of visiting there.  Mrs. Morton had an awful time getting her clothes dry without having them all smudged up with engine smoke, she had said after her last trip.  Then she had stopped abruptly as though the remark had slipped out unaware.  It was easy enough to fool poor Kate.

But there was a chance that poor Kate would walk clear down to the station, and find no Marion.  In that case, Marion decided to invent a visit to one of the nearest ranches.  That would be easy enough, for if Marion did not know any of the ranchers, neither did Kate, and she would scarcely go so far as to inquire at all the ranches.  That would be too ridiculous; besides, Kate was not likely to punish herself by making the trip just for the sake of satisfying her curiosity.

Marion plunged on down the hill, hurrying because she was later than she had intended to be, and it was cold for a person standing around in the snow.  She crossed the deep gulch and climbed laboriously up the other side, over hidden shale rock and through clumps of bushes that snatched at her clothing like a witch’s bony fingers.  She had no more than reached the top when Jack stepped out from behind a pine tree as wide of girth as a hogshead.  Marion gave a little scream, and then laughed.  After that she frowned at him.

“Say, you mustn’t come down so far!” she expostulated.  “You know it isn’t a bit safe—­I’ve told you so a dozen times, and every time I come out, here I find you a mile or so nearer to camp.  Why, yesterday there were two men up here hunting.  I saw them, and so did Doug.  They gave Doug the liver of the deer they killed and the heart—­so he wouldn’t tell on them, I suppose.  What if they had seen you?”

“One of them was Hank Brown,” Jack informed her unemotionally.  “I met him close as I am to you, and he swung off and went the other way.  Last time we met I licked the daylights out of him, and I guess he hasn’t forgotten the feel of my knuckles.  Anyway, he stampeded.”

“Well, forevermore!” Marion was indignant.  “What’s the use of your hiding out in a cave, for goodness’ sake, if you’re going to let people see you whenever they come up this way?  Just for that I’ve a good mind not to give you these cigarettes.  I could almost smoke them myself, anyway.  Kate thinks that I do.  She found out that it wasn’t candy, the last time, so I had to pretend I have a secret craving for cigarettes, and I smoked one right before her to prove it.  We had quite a fuss over it, and I told her I’d smoke them in the woods to save her feelings, but that I just simply must have them.  She thinks now that the Martha Washington is an awful place; that’s where she thinks I learned.  She cried about it, and that made me feel like a criminal, only I was so sick I didn’t care at the time.  Take them—­and please don’t smoke so much, Jack!  It’s simply awful, the amount you use.”