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Updated: June 7, 2025
They tiptoed out and closed the door behind them softly. The wind had swept every cloud from the sky and the light of the northern stars etched a dazzling world. Dan was checking up the leaders as Hillas caught him by the shoulder and shook him like a clumsy bear.
He was travelling, had given him name as Smith, and was as inquisitive about the country as he was reticent about his business there. Dan plainly disapproved of him. They had driven the last cold miles in silence when the stage-driver turned to his neighbour. "Letter didn't say anything about coming out in the spring to look over the country, did it?" Hillas shook his head.
The shriek of the runners along the frozen snow cut through the ominous darkness. "Hillas," Dan's voice came sharply, "stand up and look for the light on Clark's guide-pole about a mile to the right. God help us if it ain't burning." Hillas struggled up, one clumsy mitten thatching his eyes from the blinding needles. "I don't see it, Dan. We can't be more than a mile away.
Dan stirred, looked quickly toward the bed, then the window, and got up quietly. "I'll hitch up. We'll stop at Peterson's and tell her to come over." He closed the door noiselessly. The traveller was frowning intently. Finally he turned toward the boy who sat with his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed. "Hillas," his very tones were awkward, "they call me a shrewd business man.
Dan turned toward the stranger's voice. "We're going 'round to the blizzard-line tied from shed to shack. Take hold of it and don't let go. If you do you'll freeze before we can find you. When the wind comes, turn your back and wait. Go on when it dies down and never let go the rope. Ready? The wind's dropped. Here, Hillas, next to me."
Do you suppose she's been walking that way for three days and nights? Why, she's only a child no older than my own daughter!" Hillas nodded. "Where are her people? Where's her husband?" "Down in Yankton, Dan told you, working for the winter. Got to have the money to live." "Where's the doctor?" "Nearest one's in Haney four days' trip away by stage." The traveller stared, frowningly.
He was traveling, had given his name as Smith, and was as inquisitive about the country as he was reticent about his business there. Dan plainly disapproved of him. They had driven the last cold miles in silence when the stage-driver turned to his neighbor. "Letter didn't say anything about coming out in the Spring to look over the country, did it?" Hillas shook his head.
He tiptoed across to the bench and pointed to the script beneath the plate. "Edward Winslow to his dear daughter, Alice ." He motioned toward the bed. "Her name?" Hillas nodded, Smith grinned. "Dan's right. Blood will tell, even to damning the rest of us." He sat down on the bench. "I understand more than I did Hillas, since you crawled back after me out there. But how can you stand it here?
Three blurs hugged the sod walls around to the north-east corner. The forward shadow reached upward to a swaying rope, lifted the hand of the second who guided the third. "Hang on to my belt, too, Hillas. Ready Smith? Got the rope?" They crawled forward, three barely visible figures, six, eight, ten steps.
"I admitted I was shrewd, Hillas, but I'm not yellow clear through, not enough to betray this part of the frontier anyhow. I had a man along here last Fall spying for minerals. That's why I'm out here now. If you know the location, and we both think you do, I'll put capital in your way to develop the mines and use what pull I have to get the road in."
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