Agatha Strange needed him; she had admitted that there was nobody else to whom she could look for help and advice.

So far, he could find no clue to the web of mystery that surrounded the matter and had caught them both, but he meant to search.
When the moccasins were dry, he began to wonder why he was anxious to help the girl, since he was not in love with her.

In a sense, it was perhaps his duty, but this did not account for his keenness.

He gave it up, and after throwing some branches on the fire lay down and went to sleep.
The fire was low and gave out no light when he wakened.

He felt cold and remembered with some annoyance that he had not gathered enough wood to last until morning.