Strange how, as I grow older, I remember better!" The night wind moaned through the spruces; dark clouds scudded across the sky, blotting out the bright stars; a steady, low roar of water came from the outlet of the lake.

The camp-fire flickered and burned out, so that no sparks blew into the blackness, and the red embers glowed and paled and crackled.

Wade at length got up and made ready for bed.

He threw back tarpaulin and blankets, and laid his rifle alongside where he could cover it.

His coat served for a pillow and he put the Colt's gun under that; then pulling off his boots, he slipped into bed, dressed as he was, and, like all men in the open, at once fell asleep.
For Wade, and for countless men like him, who for many years had roamed the West, this sleeping alone in wild places held both charm and peril.
But the fascination of it was only a vague realization, and the danger was laughed at.
Over Bent Wade's quiet form the shadows played, the spruce boughs waved, the piny needles rustled down, the wind moaned louder as the night advanced.