Dead Man's Cache - Chapter 6 In Dead Man's Cache

Not since the start of their journey had Melissy broken silence, save to
answer, in few words as possible, the questions put to her by the outlaw.
Yet her silence had not been sullenness. It had been the barrier which she
had set up between them--one which he could not break down short of actual
roughness.

Of this she could not accuse him. Indeed, he had been thoughtful of her
comfort. At sunset they had stopped by a spring, and he had shared with
her such food as he had. Moreover, he had insisted that she should rest
for a while before they took up the last stretch of the way.

It was midnight now, and they had been traveling for many hours over rough
mountain trails. There was more strength than one would look for in so
slender a figure, yet Melissy was drooping with fatigue.

"It's not far now. We'll be there in a few minutes," MacQueen promised
her.

They were ascending a narrow trail which ran along the sidehill through
the timber. Presently they topped the summit, and the ground fell away
from their feet to a bowl-shaped valley, over which the silvery moonshine
played so that the basin seemed to swim in a magic sea of light.

"Welcome to the Cache," he said to her.

She was surprised out of her silence. "Dead Man's Cache?"

"It has been called that."