Rivers, awakened by the clatter of dishes, rose
and scraped a peep-hole in a window-pane. Nothing could be seen but a
chaos of snow.
"No moving out of here to-day," he muttered, with a sullen curse.
Bailey assumed a cheerful tone.
"No; we're in for another day of it."
Inwardly he was appalled at the thought of what the long hours might
bring to him. To spend twenty-four hours more in this terrible
constraint would be ghastly. He set about the attempt to break it up.
He whistled and sang at his work, calling out to his partner as if there
were no evil passions between them.
"This is the fourth blizzard this month. Good thing they didn't come
last winter. This land wouldn't have been settled at all. What do you
suppose these poor squatters will do?"
Rivers did not respond.
Blanche tried to rise, but turned white and dizzy, and fell back upon
the bed, seized with a sudden weakness. Rivers brought her some tea and
sat by her side, while Bailey again toasted some bread for her. She
looked very weak and ill.
Bailey went out to feed the horses, glad of the chance to escape his
problem for a moment.
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