If Vic thought about the future at all, it was with a blind confidence that some time and in some unrevealed way he would get back to Alder and marry Betty Neal.

In the meantime, as the days of the spring went mildly by, he was up and about and very soon there was only a little stiffness in his right arm to remind him of Pete Glass and the dusty roan.
He spent most of his time close to the cabin, for though he had forgotten the world there was no decisive proof that the world would forget him half so easily; that was not the way of the sheriff.

He had been known to spend years in the hunt for a single misdoer and Vic had no care to wander out where he might be seen.

Besides, it was very pleasant about the cabin.

The house itself was built solidly, roomily, out of logs hewn on the timbered slopes above and dragged down to this little plateau.