Elijah shook Doug's shoulder. "How many horses have you?"
"Two."
"I'll feed 'em. Go sit down to that table and let my wife fix you up."
Douglas slowly pulled off his gloves, and his voice broke boyishly as he said, "You folks are awful kind."
"Yes, I've sometimes suspected that us Mormons was almost human beings," grunted Elijah as he pulled on his mackinaw.
Doug's cracked lips managed a shadow of his old whimsical smile. Mrs. Nelson heaped his plate and filled his cup with scalding coffee. Then she shooed the children to bed in the next room and, returning, looked down at Douglas half tenderly.
"She's a splendid big thing, that girl of yours. If I was a man I'd be plumb crazy about her. Has to be something fine in a girl to go crazy mad, just the way she was. It wasn't all about your father. It had heaped up for years. Though undoubtedly it was your father started her off this weather."
Elijah came in and sat down to his interrupted meal. "Good horses you've got," he said. "But you've worked them hard."
"Will you sell me some oats?" asked Douglas.
Elijah nodded. "I'll fix you up. Do you know how to get to the Pass?"
"No; I've never crossed, even in summer."
"Well, I can direct you, though I've never made it myself in winter. After you get over the Pass and into the Basin it will be easy going and you can get fodder there. A Mormon friend of mine is in the Basin this winter with sheep. I told Judith that and exactly how to get there."
