They talked on, and their subject was whether Dan should remain to take care of Lennox, or whether he should attempt to overtake Snowbird with the horse. Of course the girl had ordered him to stay. Lennox, on the other hand, said that Dan could not help him in the least, and desired him to follow the girl.
"I'm not often anxious about her," he said slowly. "But it is a long walk through the wildest part of the Divide. She's got nothing but a pistol and a lantern that won't shine. Besides—I've had bad dreams."
"You don't mean—" Dan's words came hard—"that she's in any danger from the animals—the cougars—or the wolves?"
"Barring accidents, no. But, Dan—I want you to go. I'm resting fairly easily, and there's whisky on the table in case of a pinch. Someway—I can't bar accidents to-night. I don't like to think of her on those mountains alone."
And remembering what had lain beside the trail, Dan felt the same. He had heard, long ago, that any animal that has once tasted human flesh loses its fear of men and is never to be trusted again. Some wild animal that still hunted the ridges had, in the last month, done just that thing. He left the room and walked softly to the door.
