Bindloss Harold - Hawtrey's Deputy

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hawtrey'

Deputy, by Harold Bindloss

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Title: Hawtrey's Deputy

Author: Harold Bindloss

Illustrator: Cyrus Cuneo

Release Date: December 23, 2008 [EBoo

#27601]

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOO



HAWTREY'S DEPUTY ***

Produced by Al Haines



"In another moment Wyllard's last

doubt vanished, and he sprang forward

with a gasp." (CHAPTER XXVIII.)

HAWTREY'S

DEPUTY

BY



HAROLD BINDLOSS

Author of "The Impostor," "The

Liberationist," etc.

Illustrated by

Cyrus Cuneo



WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED

LONDON, MELBOURNE AND

TORONTO

1910



CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

I.SALLY

CREIGHTON

II.SALLY TAKESCHARGE

III.

WYLLARD

ASSENTS

IV. A CRISIS

V.THE OLD

COUNTRYVI. HER PICTURE

VII.AGATHA DOES

NOT FLINCH



VIII. THE TRAVELLINGCOMPANION

IX. THE FOG

X. DISILLUSION

XI.AGATHA'SDECISION

XII. WANDERERSXIII. THE SUMMONS

XIV.AGATHA PROVESOBDURATE

XV. THE BEACH

XVI. THE FIRST ICE

XVII. DEFEAT

XVIII.A DELICATEERRAND

XIX. THE PRIOR CLAIM



XX. THE FIRST STAKEXXI.

GREGORY MAKESUP HIS MIND

XXII.A PAINFULREVELATION

XXIII.THROUGH THESNOW

XXIV. THE LANDING

XXV. NEWS OFDISASTER

XXVI. THE RESCUEXXVII.

IN THEWILDERNESS

XXVIII.

THE

UNEXPECTED

XXIX. CAST AWAY

XXX. THE LAST EFFORT



XXXI. WYLLARD COMESHOME



ILLUSTRATIONS

"In another moment Wyllard's las

doubt vanished, and he sprang forwar

with a gasp." . . . . . . Frontispiece

"She could not raise him wholly, and he

cried out once when his injured le

trailed in the snow."

"Then she turned to Sproatly. 'You can

wash up those dishes on the table.'"

"At length the door opened, and Agatha

Ismay, wrapped in a long cloak, came

n."



"'Now,' he said, 'I won't let you fall.'"

"'You!' was all she said."

"In another moment Hawtrey sprang u

on the platform, and she felt his arm

about her."

"Then something seemed to crack, an

she saw the off-side horse stumble an

plunge."

"'Do you think—that—would hav

mattered?'"

"'Well,' she said, 'we have driven ove

as we promised!'"



"Agatha held her hands up ... as th

man leaned down, and the next momen

she was strongly lifted."

"'I guess I needn't tell you where tha

s,' he said, and pointed to the paralle

of latitude that ran across."

"It seemed that he did not immediatel

notice her."

"'Are these things very much too bi

for you, Sally?'"

"It shambled forward in a curiou

manner."

"'I thought you might save Gregory, if



told you.'"

"'I was waiting for you,' she sai

simply."

HAWTREY'SDEPUTY.

CHAPTER I.



SALLY CREIGHTON.

The frost outside was bitter, and thprairie, which rolled back from Lander'n long undulations to the far horizon

gleamed white beneath the moon, but ther

was warmth and brightness in Stukely'wooden barn. It stood at one end of thittle, desolate settlement, where the traihat came up from the railroad thirty mile

away forked off into two wavy ribandhat melted into a waste of snow. Lander'

consisted then of five or six frame houseand stores, a hotel of the same material

several sod stables, and a few birch-lobarns; and its inhabitants considered it onof the most promising places in WesternCanada. That, however, is the land o



promise, a promise that is in due timusually fulfilled, and the men of Lander'were, for the most part, shrewdl

practical optimists. They made the most oa somewhat grim and frugal present, anstaked all they had to give—the fewdollars they had brought in with them, an

heir powers of enduring toil—upon throseate future.

Stukely had given them, and thei

scattered neighbours, who had drivehere across several leagues of prairie,

supper in his barn, and a big rusty stovewhich had been brought in for thoccasion, stood in the midst of it. Its pipglowed in places a dull red, and Stukelnow and then wondered uneasily whethe

t was charring a larger hole through th



shingles of the roof. On one side of thstove the floor had been cleared; on thother benches, empty barrels, and table

were huddled together, and such of thguests as were not at the moment dancinsat upon them indiscriminately. A keg ohard Ontario cider had been provided fo

heir refreshment, and it was open tanybody to ladle up what he wanted wita tin dipper, while a haze of tobaccosmoke drifted in thin blue wisps beneathe big nickelled lamps. In addition to th

reek of it, the place was filled with thsmell of hot iron which an over-drive

stove gives out, and the subtle odours oold skin coats.

The guests, however, were accustomed

o an atmosphere of that kind, and it di



not trouble them. For the most part, thewere lean and spare, bronzed by frost ansnow-blink, and straight of limb, for

hough scarcely half of them werCanadian born, the prairie, as a ruleswiftly sets its stamp upon the newcomerThere was also something in the way the

held themselves and put their feet dowhat suggested health and vigour, and, ihe case of most of them, a certai

alertness and decision of character. Somhailed from English cities, a few frohose of Canada, and some from the bus

of Ontario; but there was a similarit

between them which the cut and tightnesof their store clothing did not altogetheaccount for. They lived well if plainlyand toiled out in the open unusually hard

Their eyes were steady, their bronzed ski



was clear, and their laughter had wholesome ring.

A fiery-haired Scot, a Highlander of thsles, sat upon a barrel-head sawing at

fiddle, and the shrill scream of it filled thbarn. Tone he did not aspire to, but he

played with Caledonian verve and swingand kept the snapping time. It was madharsh music of the kind that sets the blooingling and the feet to move in rhythm

hough the exhilarating effect of it warather spoiled by the efforts of the littlFrench Canadian who had another fiddland threw in clanging chords upon thower strings.

They were dancing in the cleared spacwhat was presumably a quadrille, thoug



t bore almost as great a resemblance to Scottish country dance, or indeed to one ohe measures of Bretonne France, whic

was, however, characteristic of thcountry. The Englishman has set nodistinguishable impress upon the prairiet has absorbed him with his reserve an

sturdy industry, and the Canadian from thcities is apparently lost in it, too, foheirs is the leaven that works through th

mass slowly and unobtrusively, and it ihe Scot and the habitant of Frenc

extraction who have given the life of icolour and individuality. Extremes mee

and fuse on the wide white levels of thWest.

It was, however, an Englishman who

was the life of that dance, and he wa



physically a bigger man than most of threst, for as a rule, at least, the Coloniaborn run to wiry hardness rather tha

solidity of frame. Gregory Hawtrey waall and thick of shoulder, though the res

of him was in fine modelling, and he had pleasant face of the English blue-eye

ype. Just then it was suffused with almosboyish merriment, and indeed arresponsible gaiety was a salien

characteristic of the man. One would havcalled him handsome, though his moutwas a trifle slack, and there was a certaiassurance in his manner that just fell shor

of swagger. He was the kind of man onikes at first sight, but for all that not thkind his hard-bitten neighbours woulhave chosen to stand by them through th

strain of drought and frost in advers



seasons.

As it happened, the grim, hard-face

Sager, who had come there froMichigan, was just then talking to Stukelabout him.

"Kind of tone about that man—guess honce had the gold-leaf on him quite thickand it hasn't all worn off yet," he said"Seen more Englishmen like him, an

some folks from Noo York, too, when ook parties bass fishing way bac

yonder."

He waved his hand vaguely, as though tondicate the American Republic, and

Stukely agreed with him. They were alsright as far as they went, for Hawtre



undoubtedly possessed a grace of mannewhich, however, somehow failed to reacdistinction. It was, perhaps, just a littl

oo apparent, and lacked the strengtheninfeature of restraint.

"I wonder," said Stukely reflectively

"what those kind of fellows done beforhey came out here."

He had expressed a curiosity which i

now and then to be met with on thprairie, but Sager, the charitable, grinned.

"Oh," he said, "I guess quite a few don

no more than make their folks on the otheside tired of them, and that's why they senhem out to you. Some of them get paid s

much on condition that they don't com



back again. Say"—and he glanceowards the dancers—"Dick Creighton'

Sally seems quite stuck on Hawtrey by th

way she's looking at him."

Stukely assented. He was a somewhaprimitive person, as was Sally Creighton

for that matter, and he did not suppose shwould have been greatly offended had shoverheard his observations.

"Well," he said, "I've thought that, too. Ishe wants him she'll get him. She's a smargirl—Sally."

There were not many women present—perhaps one to every two of the menwhich was, however, rather a largproportion in that country, and none o



heir garments were particularly elegantThe fabric was, for the most part, thcheapest obtainable, and they ha

fashioned it with their own fingers in thscanty interludes between washing, anbaking, and mending their husbands' ofathers' clothes. Their faces were a trifl

sallow and had lost their freshness in thdry heat of the stove. Their hands werhard and reddened, and in figure most ohem were thin and spare. One could hav

fancied that in a land where everybodoiled strenuously their burden was th

heavier. One or two of them had clearl

been accustomed to a smoother life, buhere was nothing to suggest that theooked back to it with regret. As a matte

of fact, they looked forward, working fo

he future, and there was patient courag



n their smiling eyes.

Creighton's Sally, who was then trippin

hrough the measure on Hawtrey's armwas native born. She was young anstraight—straighter in outline than thwomen of the cities—with a supplenes

which was less suggestive of the willowhan a rather highly-tempered spring. Sh

moved with a large vigour which only jusfell short of grace, her eyes snapped whe

she smiled at Hawtrey, and her hairwhich was of a ruddy brown, had fiergleams in it. Anyone would have calledher comely, and there was, indeed, nowomen in Stukely's barn to compare wither in that respect, which was a fact shrecognised, while every line and pose o

her figure seemed expressive of a



effervescent vitality.

"Oh yes," said Sager reflectively; "she'l

get him sure if she sets her mind on it, anhere's no denying that they make

handsome pair. I've nothing againsHawtrey either: a straight man, a hustler

and smart at handling a team. Still, it'kind of curious that while the man's nevebeen stuck for the stamps like the rest ous, he's made nothing very much of hi

homestead yet. Now there's Bob, anJake, and Jasper came in after he did withalf the dollars, and they thrash out foubushels of hard wheat for Hawtrey'hree."

Stukely made a little gesture oconcurrence, for he dimly realised th



significance of his companion's speech. Is results which count in that country

where the one thing demanded is practica

efficiency, and the man of simplesteadfast purpose usually goes the farthestHawtrey had graces which won hifriends, boldness of conception, and th

power of application; but he had somehowfailed to accomplish as much as hineighbours did. After all, there must be good deal to be said for the man whraises four bushels of good wheat wherhis comrade with equal facilities raisehree.

In the meanwhile Hawtrey was talking tSally, and it was not astonishing that thealked of farming, which is the standar

opic on that strip of prairie.



"So you're not going to break that newpiece this spring?" she said.

"No," said Hawtrey; "I'd want anotheeam, anyway, and I can't raise the dollarshey're hard to get out here."

"Plenty under the sod," said Sally, whowas essentially practical. "That's wherwe get ours, but you have to put thbreaker in and turn it over. You"—and she

flashed a swift glance at him—"got mosof yours from England. Won't they sendyou any more?"

Hawtrey's eyes twinkled as he shook hihead. "I'm afraid they won't," he said"You see, I've put the screw on themrather hard the last few years."



"How did you do that?" said Sally"Told them you were thinking of cominghome again?"

There was a certain wryness in hecompanion's smile, for though Hawtrehad cast no particular slur upon th

family's credit he had signally failed tenhance it, and he was quite aware that hiEnglish relatives did not greatly desire hipresence in the Old Country.

"My dear," he said, "you really shouldnhit a fellow in the eye that way."

As it happened, he did not see the girl'face just then, or he might have noticed momentary change in its expressionGregory Hawtrey was a little casual i



speech, but so far most of the younwomen he bestowed an epithet of that kinupon had attached no significance to it

They had wisely decided that he did nomean anything. In another moment or twhe Scottish fiddler's voice broke in.

"Can ye no' watch the music? Noo it'paddybash!" he cried.

His French Canadian comrade wave

his fiddle-bow protestingly.

"Paddybashy! V'la la belle chose!" hsaid with ineffable contempt, and broke i

upon the ranting melody with a successioof harsh, crashing chords.

Then it apparently became a contest a



o which could drown the other'nstrument, and the snapping time grew

faster, until the dancers gasped, and men

with long boots encouraged them witcries and stamped a staccataccompaniment upon the benches or on thfloor. It was savage, rasping music, bu

one player infused into it the ebullienverve of France, and the other was frohe misty land where the fiddler learns th

witchery of the clanging reel and thswing of the Strathspey. It is doubtless nohigh art, but there is probably no music ihe world that fires the blood like this an

urns the sober dance to rhythmic riotPerhaps, too, it gains something that givet a closer compelling grip amidst th

prairie snow.



Hawtrey, at least, was breathless whet ceased, and Sally's eyes flashed with th

effulgence of the Northern night when he

partner found her a resting-place upon aupturned barrel.

"No," she said, "I won't have any cider.

She turned and glanced at himperiously. "You're not going for any

more either."

It was, no doubt, not the speech a wellrained English maiden would have made

but, though Hawtrey smiled rathecuriously, it fell inoffensively from Sally'

ips. Though it is not always set down their credit, the brown-faced, hard-hande

men as a rule live very abstemiously ihat country, and, as it happened, Hawtrey



who, however, certainly showed no sigof it, had already consumed rather morcider than anybody else. He made a littl

sign of submission, and Sally resumeheir conversation where it had broken of

"We could let you have our ox-team to

do that breaking with," she said. "You'vehad Sproatly living with you all winterWhy don't you make him stay and work ouhis keep?"

Hawtrey laughed. "Sally," he said, "doyou think anybody could make Sproatlwork?"

"It would be hard," the girl admitted, anhen looked up at him with a little glint i

her eyes. "Still, I'd put a move on him i



you sent him along to me."

She was a rather capable young woman

but Hawtrey was very dubious of heability to accomplish as much as thisSproatly was an Englishman of gooeducation, though his appearance seldo

suggested it, who drove about the prairin a waggon vending cheap oleograph

and patent medicines most of the summerand contrived to obtain free quarters fro

his bachelor acquaintances during thwinter. It is a hospitable country, but therewere men round Lander's who when thewent away to work in far-off lumbecamps, as they sometimes did, nailed uheir doors and windows to preven

Sproatly getting in.



"Does he never do anything?" Salladded.

"No," said Hawtrey; "at least, nevewhen he can help it. He had, howeverstarted something shortly before I left himYou see, the house has wanted cleaning

he last month or two, and we tossed upfor who should do it. It fell to Sproatlywho didn't seem quite pleased, but he goas far as firing the chairs and tables ou

nto the snow. Then he sat down for smoke, and he was looking at them throughe window when I drove away."

"Ah," said his companion, "you wansomebody to keep the house straight anook after you. Didn't you know any nic

girls back there in the Old Country?"



It was spoken naturally, and there wanothing to show that the girl's heart beat ittle more rapidly than usual as sh

watched her companion. His facehowever, grew a trifle graver, for she hadouched upon a rather momentous questioo such men as him. There are a goo

many of them living in Spartan simplicitupon the prairie, well-trained, wellconnected young Englishmen, and otherike them from Canadian cities. The

naturally look for some grace of culture orefinement in the woman they woulmarry, and there are few women of th

station they once belonged to who coulface the loneliness and unassistedrudgery that must be borne by the smalwheat-grower's wife. There were als

reasons why this question had bee



roubling Hawtrey in particular of late.

"Oh, yes, one or two," he said. "I'm no

quite sure, however, that girls of that kindwould find things even moderatelcomfortable here."

There was a certain reflectiveness in hione, which, since it seemed to indicathat he had already given the point som

consideration, jarred upon his companion

She had also an ample share of thWestern farmer's pride, which firmlydeclines to believe that there is any lano compare with the one the plough i

slowly wresting from the wide whitevels of the prairie.

"We make out well enough," she said



with a snap in her eyes.

Hawtrey made a little whimsica

gesture. "Oh, yes," he admitted; "it's iyou. All you want to beat the wildernesand turn it into a garden is an axe, a spaof oxen, and a breaker plough. You ough

o be proud of it. Still, you see, our folkback yonder aren't quite the same as you."

Sally partly understood him. "Ah," sh

said, "they want more, and, perhapshey're used to having more than we have

but isn't that in one way their misfortunes it what folks want, or what they can do

hat makes them of use to anybody else?"

There was a hard truth in her suggestionbut Hawtrey, who seldom occupied



himself with matters of that kind, smiled.

"Oh," he said, "I don't know; but, afte

all, it wouldn't be worth while our raisinwheat here unless there were folks bacEast to eat it, and if some of them only eat in the shape of dainty cakes that doesn

affect the question. Anyway, there's onlyanother dance or two, and I wawondering whether I could drive yohome; I've got Wyllard's Ontario sleigh."

Sally glanced at him rather sharply. Shhad half-expected this offer, and it ipossible would have judiciously led hi

up to it if he had not made it. Now, as shsaw that he really wished to drive hehome, she was glad that she had not donso.



"Yes," she said softly, "I think youcould."

"Then," said Hawtrey, "if you'll wait teminutes I'll be back with the team."

CHAPTER II.

SALLY TAKES CHARGE.

The night was clear and bitterly colwhen Hawtrey and Sally Creighton drovaway from Stukely's barn. Winter hadingered unusually long that year, and th



prairie gleamed dimly white, with thsledge trail cutting athwart it, a smear oblue-grey, in the foreground. It was—fo

Lander's lay behind them with the snowamong the stubble belts that engirdled it—an empty wilderness the mettlesome teaswung across, and during the first few

minutes the cold struck through them wita sting like the thrust of steel. A half-moonhung low above it, coppery red with frostand there was no sound but the cruncbeneath the runners, and the beat of hoofhat rang dully through the silence like

roll of muffled drums.

Sleighs like the one that Hawtrey drovare not common on the prairie, where thfarmer generally uses the humble bob-sle

when the snow lies unusually long. Th



one in question had, however, been madfor use in Montreal, and bought back Easby a friend of Hawtrey's, who was, as i

happened, possessed of some meanswhich is a somewhat unusual thing in thcase of a Western wheat-grower. He hadalso bought the team—the fastest he coul

obtain—and when the warmth came baco them Hawtrey and the girl becam

conscious of the exhilaration of the swifand easy motion. The sleigh was light annarrow, and Hawtrey, who drew the thickdriving robe higher about his companiondid not immediately draw the mittene

hand he had used back again. The girl dinot resent the fact that it still rested behinher shoulder, nor did Hawtrey attach anparticular significance to the matter. H

was a man who usually acted on impulse



with singularly easy manners. How faSally understood him did not appear, bushe came of folk who had waged a ver

stubborn battle with the wilderness, anhere was a vein of somewhat grienacity in her.

She was, however, conscious that therwas something beneath her feet whicforced her, if she was to sit comfortablyrather close against her companion; and i

seemed expedient to point it out.

"Can't you move a little? I can't get mfeet fixed right," she said.

Hawtrey looked down at her with smile. "I'm afraid I can't unless I get righoutside. Aren't you happy there?"



It was the kind of speech he was in thhabit of making, but there was rather morcolour in the girl's face than the stingin

night air brought there, and she glanced ahe bottom of the sleigh.

"It's a sack of some kind, isn't it?" sh

said.

"Yes," said Hawtrey; "it's a couple ohree-bushel bags. Some special see

wheat Lorton sent to Winnipeg forOrmond brought them out from thrailroad. I promised I'd take them along thim."

"You should have told me. It's most aeague round by Lorton's place," sai

Sally.



"That won't take long with this teamHave you any great objections to anothefifteen minutes' drive with me?"

Sally looked up at him, and thmoonlight was on her face, which was very comely one.

"No," she admitted, "I haven't any."

She said it demurely, but there was a jus

perceptible something in her voice whicmight have warned the man had he beeaddicted to taking warning from anythingwhich was, however, not the case. It was

n fact, his trouble that he seldom thoughabout what he did until he was compelleo face the consequences; and it was

perhaps, to his credit that he had after al



done very little harm, for there was hoblood in him.

"Well," he said, "I'm not going togrumble about those extra three miles, buyou were asking what land I meant tbreak this spring. What put that into you

mind?"

"Our folks," said Sally candidly. "Thewere talking about you."

This again was significant, but Hawtredid not notice it.

"I've no doubt they said I ought to tacklhe new quarter section?" he suggested.

"Yes," assented Sally. "Why don't you

do it? Last fall you thrashed out quite a bi



harvest."

"I certainly did. There, however, didn

seem to be many dollars left over when I'faced the bills."

The girl made a little gesture o

mpatience. "Oh," she said, "Bob and Jakand Jasper sowed on less backsetting, anhey're buying new teams and ploughs

Can't you do what they do, though I gues

hey don't go off for weeks to Winnipeg?"

The man was silent. He had an incentivo work hard which she was no

acquainted with, and he had certainly donso, but the long, iron winter, when therwas nothing that could be done, haproved too much for him. It was ver



dreary sitting alone evening after eveninbeside the stove, and the company of thsomnolent Sproatly was not much mor

cheerful. Now and then his pleasureoving nature had revolted from th

barrenness of his lot when he drove homfrom an odd visit to a neighbour, stiff wit

cold, through the stinging frost, andarriving in the dark, found the stove haburned out and water frozen hard insidhe house. These were things hi

neighbours patiently endured, but Hawtrehad fled for life and brightness tWinnipeg.

Sally glanced up at him with a little nod"You take hold with a good gripEverybody allows that," she said. "Th

rouble is you let things go afterwards



You don't stay with it."

"Yes," assented Hawtrey. "I believe you

have hit it, Sally. That's very much what'he matter with me."

"Then," said the girl with quie

nsistence, "won't you try?"

A faint flush crept into Hawtrey's faceThe girl was less than half-taught, an

unacquainted with anything beyond thsimple, strenuous life of the prairie. Hegreatest accomplishments consisted osome skill in bakery and the handling o

half-broken teams; but she had once owice given him what he recognised a

excellent advice. There was somethinncongruous in the situation, but, as usua



he preferred to regard it whimsically.

"I suppose I'll have to, if you insist. I

ever I'm the grasping owner of the biggesfarm in this district I'll blame you," hsaid.

Sally said nothing further on that subjectand some time later the sleigh wenskimming down among the birches in shallow ravine. Hawtrey pulled the horse

up when they reached the bottom of it, anglanced up at a shapeless cluster obuildings that showed black amidst threes.

"Lorton won't be back until to-morrowbut I promised to pitch the bags into higranary," he said. "If I hump them up th



rail here it will save us driving rounhrough the bluff."

He got down, and though the bags werheavy he managed to hoist the first of theon to his shoulders, with Sally'assistance, and then staggered up the stee

foot-trail that climbed the slope with itHe was more or less accustomed tcarrying bags of grain between store anwaggon, but his mittened hands wer

numbed, and his joints were stiff witfrost just then, and Sally noticed that hfloundered rather wildly. In anothemoment or two, however, he vanished intohe gloom among the trees, and she saistening to the uneven crunch of hi

footsteps in the snow, until there was

sudden crash of broken branches, and



sound as of something falling heavildown a declivity. Then there was anothecrash, and stillness again.

Sally gasped, and clenched her mittenehands hard upon the reins as shremembered that Lorton's bye trail skirte

he edge of a very steep bank, but she losneither her collectedness nor her nervePresence of mind in the face of aemergency is probably as much a questio

of experience as of temperament, and, as ihappened, she had, like other women ihat country, seen men struck down b

half-trained horses, crushed by collapsinstrawpiles, and once or twice gashed by mower blade. This was no doubt why shremembered that the impatient team woul

probably move on if she left the sleigh



and she drove them to the first of thbirches before she got down. Then shknotted the reins about a branch, an

called out sharply.

No answer came out of the shadows, anher heart beat unpleasantly fast as sh

plunged in among the trees, keeping belowhe narrow trail that went slanting up th

side of the declivity, until she stoppedwith another gasp, when she reached

spot where a ray of moonlight camfiltering down. A limp figure in an oldskin coat lay almost at her feet, and shdropped on her knees beside it in thsnow. Hawtrey's face showed aunpleasant greyish-white in the fainsilvery light.



"Gregory!" she cried hoarsely.

The man opened his eyes, and blinked a

her in a half-dazed manner. "Fell down,he said. "Think I felt my leg go—and mside's stabbing me. Go for somebody."

Sally glanced round, and noticed that thgrain bag lay burst open not far away. Shfancied that he had clung to it after he loshis footing, which explained why he ha

fallen so heavily, but that was not a poinof any consequence now. There wanobody who could help her within tweagues of the spot, and it was evident tha

she could not leave him there to freezeThen she noticed that the trees grew rathefarther apart just there, and rising swiftlshe ran back to bring the team. The ascen



was steep, and she had to urge them up iwith sharp cries and blows with hemittened hand amidst the shadowy trunk

and through snapping undergrowth beforshe reached the spot where Hawtrey layHe looked up at her when at last thestood snorting close beside him.

"You can't turn them here," he said.

Sally was never sure how she manage

t, for the sleigh drove against the slenderunks, and the fiery beasts, terrified by th

snapping of the undergrowth, were almosunmanageable; but at last they were facin

he descent again, and she stooped anwined her arms about the shoulders of he

companion, who now lay almost againshe sleigh.



"It's going to hurt, Gregory, but I havgot to get you in," she said.

Then she gasped, for Hawtrey was man of full stature, and it was a heavy liftShe could not raise him wholly, and hcried out once when his injured leg traile

n the snow. Still, with the most strenuoueffort she had ever made she moved him yard or so, and then staggering fell wither side against the sleigh. She felt fain

with the pain of it, but with anothedesperate lift she drew him into the sleighand let him sink down gently upon the bahat still lay there. His eyes had shut again

and he said nothing now.



"She could not raise him wholly, and he

cried out once when his injured leg

trailed in the snow."

It took only another moment or two twrap the thick driving robe about him, anafter that she glanced down, with one han

still beneath his neck. It was clear that hwas quite unconscious of her presenceand stooping swiftly she kissed his greface. Then she settled herself in thdriving seat with only a blanket coat tshelter her from the stinging frost, and thhorses went cautiously down the slope

She did not urge them until they reachehe level, for the trail that wound up out ohe ravine was difficult, but when th

wide white expanse once more stretche

away before them she laid the biting whi



across their backs.

That was quite sufficient. They wer

fiery beasts, and when they broke into furious gallop the rush of night wind thascreamed by struck her tingling cheekike a lash of wires. Then all power o

feeling went out of her hands, her armgrew stiff and heavy, and she was gladhat the trail led smooth and straight to th

horizon. Hawtrey, who had moved a little

ay, a shapeless figure, across her feet, buhe answered nothing when she spoke thim.

The team went far at the gallop, and thbeat of hoofs rose up, dulled a little, in wild staccato drumming. There was ansistent crunching beneath the runners



and a fine mist of snow beat against thsleigh, but the girl leaning forward, ense figure, with nerveless hand

clenched upon the reins, saw nothing buhe blue-grey riband of trail that steadil

unrolled itself before her. At lengthhowever, a blurred mass, which she knew

o be a birch bluff, grew out of the whitwaste, and presently a cluster of darkesmudges shot up into the shape of a loghouse, sod stables, and strawpile granaryA minute or two later, she pulled the teamup with an effort, and a man, who flung thdoor of the house open, came out into th

moonlight. He stopped, and apparentlgazed at her in astonishment.

"Miss Creighton!" he said.



"Don't stand there," said Sally. "Take thenear horse's head, and lead them right upo the door."

"What's the matter?" the man askestupidly.

"Lead the team up," said Sally. "Jump, iyou can."

It was supposed on that part of th

prairie that Sproatly had never movewith much expedition in his life, but thanight he sprang towards the horses at commanding wave of the girl's hand. H

started when he saw his comrade lying ihe bottom of the sleigh, but Sall

disregarded his hurried questions.



"Help me to get him out," she said, whehe stopped the team. "Keep his right leg astraight as you can. I don't want to lift him

We must slide him in."

They did it somehow, though the girwas breathless before their task, which th

snow made a little easier, was finishedand the perspiration started from the manThen Sally turned to the latter.

"Get into the sleigh, and don't spare theam," she said. "Drive over to Watson's

and bring him along. You can tell him youpartner's broke his leg, and some of hi

ribs. Start right now!"

Sproatly did her bidding, and when thdoor closed behind him she flung off he



blanket coat and thrust fresh billets inthe stove. Then she looked for som

coffee in the store cupboard, and set on

kettle; after which she sat down on thfloor by Hawtrey's side. He lay still, withe thick driving robe beneath him, anhough the colour was creeping back int

his face, his eyes were shut, and he waapparently quite insensible of hepresence. For the first time she waconscious of a distressful faintnesswhich, as she had come suddenly out ohe stinging frost into the little overheate

room, which reeked with tobacco smok

and a stale smell of cooking, was noastonishing. She mastered it, however, anpresently, seeing that Hawtrey did nomove; glanced about her with som

curiosity, for this was the first time sh



had entered his house.

The room was scantily furnished, and

hough very few of the bachelor farmers ihat country live luxuriously, she fanciedhat Sproatly, who had evidently ver

rudimentary ideas on the subject of house

cleaning, had not brought back all thsundries he had thrown out into the snowt then contained a table, a carpenter'

bench, and a couple of chairs, and ther

were still smears of dust upon thuncovered floor. The birch-log walls hadbeen rudely panelled with match-boardinhalf-way up, which was a somewhaunusual luxury, but the half-seasonedboards had rent with the heat, and exudestreaks of resin to which the grime an

dust had clung. A pail, which apparently



contained potato peelings, stood amidst itter of old long boots and broken harnes

against one wall, and the floor was blac

and thick with grease all round the ruststove. A pile of unwashed dishes andcooking utensils stood upon the table, anhe lamp above her head had blackene

he boarded ceiling, and diffused a subtlodour of kerosene.

Sally noticed it all with disgust, an

hen, seeing that Hawtrey had opened hieyes, she made a cup of coffee and got hio drink it. After that he smiled at her.

"Thanks," he said feebly. "Where'Sproatly? My side stabs me."

Sally raised one hand. "You're not to say



a word. Sproatly's gone for Watson, andhe'll soon fix you up. Now lie quite stiland shut your eyes again."

The man obeyed her, in so far as that hay still, but his eyes were not more tha

half-closed, and she could not resist th

emptation to see what he would do if shwent away. She had half risen, when hstretched a hand out and felt for her dressand she sank down again with a curiou

softness in her face. Then he let his eyeclose altogether, as if satisfied, and by anbye she gently laid her hand on his.

He did not appear to notice it, andhough she did not know whether he wa

asleep or unconscious, she sat beside himwith compassion in her eyes. There wa



no sound but the snapping of the bircbillets in the rusty stove. She was anxiousbut not unduly so, for she knew that me

who live as the prairie farmers do, usuallrecover from such injuries as had befallehim more or less readily. It would also nobe very long before assistance arrived, fo

t was understood that the man she hasent Sproatly for had almost gone througa medical course in an Eastern city beforhe set up as a prairie farmer. Why he hadsuddenly changed his profession was point he did not explain, and, as he haalways shown himself willing to do wha

he could when any of his neighbours mewith an accident, nobody troubled hiabout the matter.

By and bye Sproatly brought him to th



homestead, and he was busy with Hawtrefor some time. Then they got him to bedand Watson came back to the room where

Sally was anxiously waiting.

"His idea about his injuries is more oess correct, but we'll have no grea

rouble in pulling him round," he said"The one point that's worrying me is thooking after him. One couldn't expect hio thrive upon slabs of burnt salt pork, an

Sproatly's bread."

"I'll do what I can," said Sproatlndignantly.

"You!" said the other. "It would becriminal to leave you in charge of a sicman."



Sally quietly put on her blanket coat. "Iyou can stay that long, I'll be back sooafter it's light," she said. Then she turne

o Sproatly. "You can wash up thosedishes on the table, and get a brush answeep this room out. If it's not quite smaro-morrow you'll do it again."



"Then she turned to Sproatly. 'You can

wash up those dishes on the table.'"

Then, while Sproatly grinned, she wenout and drove away through the bittefrost.

CHAPTER III.

WYLLARD ASSENTS.

Sally, who brought her mother with herspent a couple of weeks at Hawtrey'

homestead before Watson decided that hi



patient could be entrusted to Sproatly'care; but she came back afterwards twica week or so with odd baskets of daintie

o make sure that the latter, in whom shhad no confidence, was discharging hiduties satisfactorily. She had driven oveagain one afternoon, when Hawtrey

whose bones were knitting well, laalking to another man in his little sleepin

room.

There was no furniture in it whateverbeyond the wooden bunk he lay in, and deerhide lounge chair he had made durinhe winter; but the stovepipe from th

kitchen led across part of it, and then uagain into the room beneath the rooabove. It had been one of Sproatly's dutie

during the past two weeks to rise an



renew the fire when the cold awakenehis comrade soon after midnight. Apresent he was outside the house

whipsawing birch-logs and splitting thento billets, which was an occupation h

cherished a profound dislike for.

Spring had, however, come suddenly, at usually does on the prairie, a few day

earlier, and the snow was melting fasunder a brilliant sun. The bright rays tha

streamed in through the window strucathwart the glimmering dust motes in thittle bare room, and fell, pleasantl

warm, upon the man who lay in thdeerhide chair. He was a year or twoolder than Hawtrey, though he hadscarcely reached thirty, a man of tranqui

manner, with a rather lean and deepl



bronzed face, of average height, ansomewhat spare of figure. He held a pipn his hand, and was then looking a

Hawtrey with quiet, contemplative eyesThey were, indeed, his most noticeablfeature, though it was difficult to sawhether their colour was grey or hazel

brown, for they were singularly clear, andhere was something which suggeste

steadfastness in their unwavering gaze. Hwore long boots, trousers of old bluduck, and a jacket of soft deerskin such ahe Blackfeet dress; and there was nothin

about him to suggest that he was a man o

varied experience, and of sommportance in that country.

Harry Wyllard was native-born, and had

n his young days assisted his father in th



working of a little Manitoban farm, whehat great grain province was still, for th

most part, a wilderness. Then a mor

prosperous relative on the Pacific slophad sent him to Toronto University, whereafter a session or two he had becomnvolved in a difference of opinion wit

he authorities. Though the matter wanever made quite clear, it was generallbelieved that Wyllard had quietly bornhe blame of a comrade's action, for ther

was a vein of eccentric generosity in thad. In any case, he left Toronto, and the

relative, who was largely interested in th

fur business, next sent him north to thBehring Sea, in one of his schooners. Thbusiness was then a remarkably hazardouone, for the skin buyers and pelagi

sealers had trouble all round with th



Alaskan representatives of Americarading companies, whose preserves the

poached upon, as well as with th

commanders of the gunboats sent up thero protect the seals.

Men's lives were staked against th

value of a fur, edicts were lightlcontravened, and now and then a schoonebarely escaped into the smothering fowith skins looted close aboard forbidde

beaches. It was a perilous life, and strenuous one, for they had every whitman's hand against them, as well as foand gale, and the reefs that lay in thideways of almost uncharted waters; bu

Wyllard made the most of it. He kept thpeace with jealous skippers who resente

he presence of a man they might comman



as mate, but whose views they werforced to listen to when he spoke asupercargo; won the good-will of sea

bred Indians, and drove a good trade withem; and not infrequently brought his boa

back first to the plunging schooner loadewith reeking skins.

Then he fell into trouble again when thewere hanging off the Eastern Isles undedouble reefs, watching for the Russians

seals. A boat's crew from anotheschooner had been cast ashore, and, ahey were in peril of falling into th

Russians' hands, Wyllard led a recklesboat expedition to bring them off againHe succeeded, in so far that the wreckemen were taken off the roaring beac

hrough a tumult of breaking surf, but a



hey pulled seaward the fog shut down ohem, and one boat, manned by three men

never reached the schooners. They blew

horns all night, standing off and on, ancrept along the smoking beach next dayhough the surf made landing impossible

Then a sudden gale drove them off th

shore, and, as it was evident that theicomrades must have perished, thereluctantly sailed for other fishingrounds. As one result of this, Wyllardbroke with his prosperous relative whehe came back to Vancouver.

After that he helped to strengtherailroad bridges among the mountains oBritish Columbia, worked in loggincamps, and shovelled in the mines, and, a

t happened, met Hawtrey, who, tempted



by high wages, had spent a winter in thMountain Province after a disastrouharvest. In the meanwhile, his father ha

sold out, and taken up virgin soil iAssiniboia. He died soon after Wyllardwent back to him, and a few months latehe relative in Vancouver also died

Somewhat to Wyllard's astonishment, hbequeathed him a considerable propertywhich the latter realised and sunk most ohe proceeds in further acres of virgi

prairie. Willow Range was already one ohe largest farms between Winnipeg andhe Rockies.

"The leg's getting along satisfactorily?he said at length.

Hawtrey, who appeared unusuall



houghtful, admitted that it was.

"Any way, it's singularly unfortunate tha

'm broken up just now," he added"There's the ploughing to commence in week or two, and, besides that, I wahinking of getting married."

Wyllard was somewhat astonished ahis announcement. For one thing, he wa

more or less acquainted with the state o

his friend's finances. During the nexmoment or two he glanced meditativelhrough the open door into the adjoinin

room, where Sally Creighton was bus

beside the stove. The sleeves of her lighbodice were rolled up well above thelbow, and she had pretty, round armswhich were just then partly immersed i



dough.

"I don't think there's a nicer or mor

capable girl in this part of Assiniboia," hsaid.

"Oh, yes," said Hawtrey. "Anybod

would admit that. Still, since you seem ssure of it, why don't you marry heyourself?"

Wyllard looked at his comrade rathecuriously. "Well," he said, "there are oneor two reasons that don't affect Miss Salland only concern myself. Besides, it'

highly improbable that she'd have me."

He paused to light his pipe, which hagone out, before he looked up again



"Since it evidently isn't Sally, have I mehe lady?"

"You haven't. She's in England."

"It's four years, isn't it, since you werover there?"

Hawtrey lay silent a minute, and themade a little confidential gesture. "I'better tell you all about the thing," he said

"Our folks were people of some littlstanding in the county. In fact, as thewere far from rich, they had just standinenough to embarrass them. In mos

respects they were ultra-conventional witold-fashioned ideas, and, though there wano open break, I'm afraid I didn't get owith them quite as well as I should hav



done, which is why I came out to CanadaThey started me on the land decently, andwice when we'd harvest frost and horse

sickness, they sent the draft I asked thefor along. That is one reason why I'm nogoing to worry them, though I'd very mucike another now. You see, there are two

girls, as well as Reggie, who's reading fohe Bar."

"I don't think you have mentioned th

ady yet."

"She's a connection of some friends oours. Her mother, so far as I understand it

married beneath her—a man her folkdidn't like. He died, and, when by and byhis wife died, Agatha, who was broughup by his relations, was often at th



Grange. It's a little, old-fashioned, halfruinous place, a mile or two from wherwe live in the North of England. It belong

o her mother's folks, but I think there wastill a feud between them and her father'people, who brought her up to earn heiving. We saw a good deal of each other

and fell in love as boy and girl. Wellwhen I went back, one winter, after I'dbeen here two years, Agatha was at thGrange again, and we decided then that was to bring her out as soon as I had home she could live in to offer her."

He broke off for a moment, and therwas a trace of embarrassment in himanner when he went on again. "Perhaps ought to have managed it sooner," h

added. "Still, things never seem to g



quite as one would like with me, and yocan understand that a dainty, delicate girbrought up in comfort in England woul

find it rough out here."

Wyllard glanced round the bare room inwhich he sat, and into the other, whic

was also furnished in a remarkablprimitive manner.

"Yes," he assented, "I can quite realise

hat."

"Well," said his companion, "it's a thinghat has been worrying me a good deal o

ate, because, as a matter of fact, I'm nomuch farther forward than I was four yearago. In the meanwhile, Agatha, who hasome talent for music, was in a first-clas



master's hands. Afterwards she gavessons, and got odd singing engagements

A week ago, I had a letter from her in

which she said that her throat was givinout."

He stopped again for a moment, wit

rouble in his face, and then fumblinunder his pillow produced a letter, whichhe carefully folded.

"We're rather good friends," he said"You can read that part of it."

Wyllard took the letter, and a suggestion

of quickening interest crept into his eyeas he read. Then he looked up at Hawtrey

"It's a brave letter—the kind a brave gir



would write," he said. "Still, it's evidenhat she's anxious."

There was silence for a moment or twowhich was only broken by Sally clatterinabout the stove. Dissimilar in characteras they were, the two were firm friends

and there had been a day when, as theworked upon a dizzy railroad trestleHawtrey had held his comrade fast when plank slipped away. He had, it wa

characteristic, thought nothing of thmatter, but Wyllard was one whoremembered things of that kind.

"Now," said Hawtrey, "you see myrouble. This place isn't fit for her, and

couldn't even go across for some time yetbut her father's folks have died off, an



here's nothing to be expected from hemother's relatives. Any way, she can't beeft to face the blow alone. It'

unthinkable. Well, there's only one courseopen to me, and that's to raise as mandollars on a mortgage as I can, fit thplace out with fixings brought fro

Winnipeg, and sow a double acreage witborrowed capital. I'll send for her as sooas I can get the house made a little morcomfortable."

Wyllard sat silent a moment or two, andhen leaned forward in his chair.

"No," he said, "there are two other anwiser courses. Tell the girl what thingare like here, and just how you standShe'd face it bravely. There's no doubt o



hat."

Hawtrey looked at him sharply. "

believe she would, but considering thayou have never seen her, I don't quitknow why you should be sure of it."

Wyllard smiled. "The girl who wrothat letter wouldn't flinch."

"Well," said Hawtrey, "you can mention

he second course."

"I'll let you have $1,000 at bank interes—which is less than any land-broke

would charge you—without a mortgage."

Again Hawtrey showed a certaiembarrassment. "No," he said, "I'm afrai

t can't be done. I'd a kind of claim upo



my people, though it must be admitted tha've worked it off, but I can't quite brin

myself to borrow money from my friends.

Wyllard, who saw that he meant it, mada gesture of resignation. "Then you muset the girl make the most of it, but keep

out of the hands of the mortgage man. Bhe way, I haven't told you that I'v

decided to make a trip to the Old CountryWe'd a bonanza crop last season, and

Martial could run the range for a month owo. After all, my father was born yonder

and I can't help feeling now and then that should have made an effort to trace up thayoung Englishman's relatives, and telhem what became of him."

"The one you struck in Britis



Columbia? You have mentioned him, butso far as I remember, you never gave many particulars about the thing."

Wyllard seemed to hesitate, which wanot a habit of his. "There is," he said, "nomuch to tell. I struck the lad sitting down

played out, upon a trail that led over a bidivide. It was clear that he couldn't geany further, and there wasn't a settlemenwithin a good many leagues of the spot

We were up in the ranges prospectinghen. Well, we made camp and gave him

supper—he couldn't eat very much—anhe told me what brought him therafterwards. It seemed to me he'd alwaybeen weedy in the chest, but he'd beeworking waist-deep in an icy creek

building a dam at a mine, until his lung



had given out. The mining boss was a harcase and had no mercy on him, but the ladwho seemed to have had a rough time i

he Mountain Province, stayed with it untihe played out altogether."

Wyllard's face hardened a little as h

mentioned the mining boss, and a rathecurious little sparkle crept into his eyesbut after a pause he proceeded quietly:

"We did what we could for him. In factt rather broke up the prospecting trip, bu

he was too far through," he added. "Hhung on for a week or two, and one of u

brought a doctor out from the settlementsbut the day before we broke camp Jakand I buried him."



Hawtrey made a sign of comprehensionHe was reasonably well acquainted withis comrade's character, and fancied h

knew who had brought the doctor out. Halso knew that Wyllard had been earninhis living as a railroad navvy or choppehen, and, in view of the cost of provision

brought by pack-horse into the remotebush, the reason why he had abandonehis prospecting trip after spending a weeor two taking care of the sick lad waclear enough.

"You never learned his name?" he asked

"I didn't," said Wyllard. "I went back tohe mine, but several things suggested thahe name upon their pay-roll wasn't hi

real one. He commenced a broke



message the night he died, but thhemorrhage cut him off in the middle of itThe wish that I should tell his peopl

somehow was in his eyes."

He broke off for a moment with deprecatory gesture, which in connectio

with the story was very expressive.

"I have never done it, but how could IAll I know is that he was a delicatel

brought up young Englishman, and the onlclue I have is a watch with a Londomaker's name on it and a girl's photograph've a very curious notion that I shall mee

hat girl some day."

Hawtrey, who made no comment, lastill for a minute or two after this, but hi



face suggested that he was considerinsomething.

"Harry," he said presently, "I shall nobe fit for a journey for quite a while yeand if I went over to England I couldn't gehe ploughing done and the crop in; which

f I'm going to be married, is absolutelnecessary."

There was no doubt about the latte

point, for the small Western farmer havery seldom a balance in hand, and, fohat matter, is not infrequently in debt tohe nearest storekeeper. He must, as

rule, secure a harvest or abandon hiholding, since, as soon as the crop ihrashed, the bills pour in. Wyllard mad

a sign of assent.



"Well," said Hawtrey, "if you're going toEngland you could go as my deputy. Youcould make Agatha understand what thing

are like here, and bring her out to me. I'larrange for the wedding to be soon as sharrives."

His comrade was not a conventionaperson, but he pointed out severaobjections. Hawtrey over-ruled themhowever, and eventually Wyllard

reluctantly assented.

"As it happens, Mrs. Hastings is goinover, too, and if she comes back about th

same time the thing might be managed," hsaid. "I believe she's in Winnipeg jusnow, but I'll write her. By the way, haveyou a photograph of Agatha?"



"I haven't," said Hawtrey. "She gave mone, but somehow it got mislaid onhouse-cleaning. That's rather a

admission, isn't it?"

It certainly occurred to Wyllard that iwas. In fact, it struck him as a ver

curious thing that Hawtrey should havost the picture which the girl he was iove with had given him. He sat silent fo

a moment or two, and then stood up.

"When I hear from Mrs. Hastings I'ldrive round again. Candidly, the thing hasomewhat astonished me. I always had

fancy it would be Sally."

Hawtrey laughed. "Sally?" he said"We're first-rate friends, but I never had



he faintest notion of marrying her."

Wyllard went out to harness his team

and, as it happened, did not notice thaSally, who had approached the door wita tray in her hands a moment or twearlier, drew back before him softly

When he had crossed the room she sedown the tray and leaned upon the tablewith her cheeks burning. Then, feeling thashe could not stay in the stove-heate

room, she went out, and stood in thslushy snow. One of her hands was tightlclosed, and all the colour had vanishefrom her cheeks now. She, howevercontrived to give Hawtrey his supper band bye, and soon afterwards drove away



CHAPTER IV.

A CRISIS.

While Wyllard made arrangements fohis journey, and Sally Creighton went verquietly about her work on the lonel

prairie farm, it happened one evening thaMiss Winifred Rawlinson sat uneasilexpectant far back under the gallery of concert hall in an English manufacturinown. She could not hear very well there

but it was the cheapest place she coulobtain, and economy was of som

mportance to her. Besides, by craning he



neck a little to avoid the hat of the rathestrikingly dressed young woman in front oher, she could, at least, see the stage. Th

programme which she held in one hanannounced that Miss Agatha Ismay wouldsing a certain aria from a great composer'oratorio, and she leaned further forward i

her chair when a girl of about her owage, which was twenty-four, slowladvanced to the centre of the stage.

She was a tall, well-made, brownhaired girl, with a quiet grace omovement and a comely face, attired in ong trailing dress of a shimmering corn

straw tint, but when she stood looking ahe audience Miss Rawlinson noticed

hint of tension in her expression. Agath

smay had sung at unimportant concert



with marked success, but that eveninhere was something very like shrinking i

her eyes.

Then a crash of chords from the pianmelted into a rippling prelude, anWinifred breathed easier when her friend

began to sing. Her voice was sweet anexcellently trained, and there was a deepstillness of appreciation when the cleanotes thrilled through the close-packe

hall. No one could doubt that the first parof the aria was a success, for half-subdueapplause broke out when the voice sannto silence, and for a few moments th

piano rippled on alone; but it seemed tWinifred that the look of tension was stiln the singer's face, and once more sh

grew uneasy, for she understood the caus



for it.

"The last bit of the second part's rathe

rying," said a young man behind her"There's an awkward jump of two fulones that was too much for our sopran

when we tried it at the choral union. Mis

smay's very true in intonation, but I donsuppose most of the rest would notice it ishe shirked a little and left that high sharout."

Winifred had little knowledge of musicbut she was sufficiently acquainted wither friend's character to be certain tha

Agatha would not attempt to leave thsharp in question out. This was one reasowhy she sat rigidly still when the cleavoice rang out again. It rose from note t



note, full and even, but she could see thsinger's face, and there was no doubwhatever that she was making a strenuou

effort. Nobody else, however, seemed tonotice it, for Winifred flung a swift glancround, and then fixed her eyes upon thdominant figure in the corn-straw dres

hat the glare of light fell shimmering onThe sweet voice was still rising, and shonged that the accompanist would forche tone to cover it a little, and put thoud pedal on. He, however, was gazing a

his music, and played on quietly untiwith startling suddenness, the clima

came.

The voice sank a full tone, jarrinhorribly on the theme, rose, and hoarsel

railed off into silence again. Then th



accompanist glanced over his shoulderand struck a ringing chord while he waitefor a sign, and there was a curious stirrin

among the audience. The girl in thshimmering dress stood quite still for moment with a spot of crimson in hecheek and a half-dazed look in her eyes

and then, turning swiftly, moved off thstage.

Then Winifred rose with a gasp, and

urned upon the young man next her, whoooked up inquiringly.

"Yes," she said sharply; "can't you le

me pass? I'm going out."

It was about half-past nine when shreached the wet and miry street. A fine



rain drove into her face, and she harather more than a mile to walk without aescort, but that was a matter which cause

her no concern. She was a self-relianyoung woman, and accustomed to goinabout unattended, while she was alsquite aware that the scene she had jus

witnessed would bring about a crisis iher and her friend's affairs. For all thatshe was unpleasantly conscious of the lean one rather shabby boot when sh

stepped down from the sidewalk to croshe street, and when she opened he

umbrella beneath a gas lamp she purse

up her mouth. There were a couple oholes in it near where the ribs ran into thferrule, which she had not noticed beforeShe, however, plodded on resolutel

hrough the drizzle, until three stripling



who came with linked arms down thpavement of a quieter street barred heway. One wore his hat on one side, th

one nearest the kerb flourished a littlcane, and the third of them smiled at hefatuously.

"Oh my!" he said. "Where's dear Jemimoff in such a hurry?"

Winifred drew herself up. She was littl

and determined, and, it must be admittednot quite unaccustomed to that kind ohing.

"Will you let me pass?" she said"There's a policeman at the next turning."

"There really is," said one of them. "Th



Dook has another engagement. Dream ome, Olivia!"

A beat of heavy feet drew nearer, andhe three roysterers disappeared in th

direction of a flaming music-hall, wherhe second "house" was probabl

commencing, while Winifred, who hadstepped into the gutter to avoid the onwith the cane, turned as a stalwart, bluecoated figure moved towards her.

"Thank you, officer," she said; "they'vgone."

The man merely raised a hand as if icomprehension, and plodded back to hipost. Perhaps he felt sorry for younwomen who have to earn their living, fo



he had, at least, appeared promptly whehe was needed; and perhaps he attacheno great importance to the matter. There i

a good deal that the policeman knows anaccepts with undisturbed equanimitywhich if plainly expressed would, ndoubt, form a somewhat grim commentar

on our complex civilisation.

In the meanwhile Winifred went on untishe let herself into a house in a quie

street, and ascending to the second flooentered a simply furnished room. Ithowever, contained a piano; and a littlable on which a typewriter stood amidst itter of papers occupied the opposite sid

of it. The girl sloughed off her waterproofand rather flung than hung it on a pe

behind the door, after which she sat dow



n a low chair beside the little fire. Shwas not a handsome girl, and it waevident that she did not trouble hersel

greatly about her attire. Her face was tohin, her figure too slight and spare, buhere was usually, even when she wa

anxious, as she certainly was that night,

shrewdly whimsical twinkle in her eyesand though her lips were set heexpression was compassionate.

She was, however, not the person to sistill very long, and in a minute or two shrose and placed a little kettle on the fireafter which she took a few scones, coffee-pot, and a tin of condensed milfrom a cupboard. When she had spreahem out upon a table she discovered tha

here was some of the condensed mil



upon her fingers, and it must be admittehat she sucked them. They were little

stubby fingers, which somehow looke

capable.

"It must have been four o'clock when had that bun and a cup of tea," she said.

She glanced at the table longingly: foshe occasionally found it necessary tplace a certain check upon a health

appetite. She was, however, not singulan this respect, since the practice of suc

self-denial is, unfortunately, not a verunusual thing in the case of a good man

young women in our cities who worremarkably hard. Then she resolutelshook her head.



"I must wait for Agatha," she said, andcrossing the room towards the typewriteable stopped to glance at a little frame

photograph that stood upon the mantel. Iwas a portrait of Gregory Hawtrey takesome years ago, and she apostrophied iwith quiet scorn.

"Now you're wanted you're naturallaway out yonder," she said. "You're likehe rest of them—despicable!"

This seemed to relieve her feelings, anshe sat down before the machine, whicclicked and rattled for several minute

under her stubby fingers. Then the clickinceased with sudden abruptness, and shprodded the mechanism viciously with hairpin. As this appeared unavailing sh



used her forefinger, and when at length thcarriage slid along the rod with a clashere was a smear of grimy oil upon he

cheek and her somewhat tilted nose. Thmachine, however, gave no furtherouble, and she endeavoured to make u

some, at least, of the time she had spent a

he concert. It was necessary that it shoulbe made up, but she was also consciouhat she was putting off an evil moment.

At length the door opened, and Agathsmay, wrapped in a long cloak, came in

She permitted Winifred to take it from herand then sank down into a chair. Therwas a strained look in her eyes, and heface was very weary.



"At length the door opened, and Agath

Ismay, wrapped in a long cloak, came

in."

"You're working late again?" she said.

Winifred nodded. "It's the men who loaf

my dear," she said. "When you undertakhe transcription of an author's scrawl a

ninepence the thousand words you have twork unusually hard, especially when, a

t is in this case, the thing's practicallunreadable. Besides, the woman in imakes me lose my temper. If I'd had a maof the kind described to deal with I'd havhrashed him."

She was throwing words about, partly tconceal her anxiety, and partly with th



charitable purpose of giving hecompanion time to approach the subjechat must be mentioned as she thought bes

but she rather over-did it, and Agathooked at her sharply.

"Winny," she said, "you know. You've

been there."

Winifred turned towards her quietly, foshe could face a crisis.

"Yes," she said, "I have, but you're nogoing to talk about it until you have hasupper. Don't move until I make th

coffee."

She was genuinely hungry, but while shsatisfied her own appetite she took car



hat her companion, who did not seenclined to eat, made a simple meal. The

she bundled the plates into a cupboard

and sat down facing her.

"Well," she said, "you have brokendown exactly as that throat specialist sai

you would. The first question is, Howong it will be before you can go o

again?"

Agatha laughed, a little harsh laugh. "didn't tell you everything at the time: I'vbroken down for good."

There was a moment or two's tenssilence after that, and then Agatha made dejected gesture. "He warned me that thimight happen if I went on singing, bu



what could I do? I couldn't cancel mengagements without telling people whyHe said I must go to Norway and give m

hroat and chest a rest."

They looked at one another, and therwas in their eyes the half-bitter, half

weary smile of those to whom the curprescribed is ludicrously impossible. Iwas Winifred who spoke first.

"Then," she said, "we have to face thsituation, and it's not an encouraging oneOur joint earnings just keep us here idecency—we won't say comfort—an

hey're evidently to be subject to a bireduction. It strikes me as a rather curioucoincidence that a letter from that man iCanada and one from your prosperou



friends in the country arrived just beforyou went out."

She saw the look in Agatha's eyes, andspread her hands out.

"Yes," she admitted; "I hid them. I

seemed to me that you had quite enougupon your mind this evening. I don't knowf they're likely to throw any fresh ligh

upon the question what we're going to do.

She produced the letters from a drawen her table, and Agatha straightened

herself suddenly in her chair when she ha

opened the first of them.

"Oh," she cried, "he wants me to go ouo him!"



Winifred's face set hard for a momentbut it relaxed again, and she contrived thide her dismay.

"Then," she suggested with a trace odryness, "I suppose you'll certainly goAfter all, he's probably not worse to liv

with than most of them."

Miss Rawlinson was occasionally ittle bitter, but she had, like others of he

kind, been compelled to compete in aovercrowded market with hard-drivemen. She was, however, sincerelattached to her friend, and she smile

when she saw the flash in Agatha's eyes.

"Oh," she added, "you needn't try twither me with your indignation. No doub



he's precisely what he ought to be, and dare say it will ease your feelings if yoalk about him again; at least, it will help

you to formulate your reasons for goinout to him. I'll listen patiently, and try noo be uncharitable."

Agatha fell in with the suggestion. It waa relief to talk, and she had also a certairespect, which she would not alwayadmit, for her companion's shrewdness

She meant to go, but she desired tascertain how a less interested persowould regard the course she had decideon.

"I have known Gregory since I was girl," she said.



Winifred pursed her lips up. "understood you met him at the Grange, anyou were only there for a few weeks onc

a year. After all, that isn't a very greadeal. It seems he fell in love with youwhich is, perhaps, comprehensible. What don't quite know the reason for is why yo

fell in love with him."

"Ah," said Agatha, "you have never seeGregory."

"I haven't," said Winifred sourly; "have, however, seen his picture, and onmust admit that he's reasonably good

ooking. In fact, I've seen quite aassortment of them, but it's, perhapssignificant that the last was taken somyears ago."



Agatha smiled. "Can a photograph showhe clean, sanguine temperament of a man

his impulsive generosity, and cheerfu

optimism?"

Miss Rawlinson rose, and criticallsurveyed the photograph on the mantel. "

don't want to be discouraging, but aftestudying that one I'm compelled to admihat it can't. No doubt it's the artist's faul

but I'm willing to admit that a young gir

would be rather apt to credit a man with face like that with qualities he didnpossess." Then she sat down again with houghtful expression. "The fact is, you se

him up on a pedestal and burned incenso him when you were not old enough t

know any better, and when he came hom

for a few weeks four years ago yo



promised to marry him. Now it seems he'ready at last, and wants you to go ouPerhaps it doesn't affect the question, bu

f I'd promised to marry a man in Canadhe'd certainly have to come for me. Isnhere a certain risk in the thing?"

"A risk?"

Winifred nodded. "Yes," she said"rather a serious one. Four years is a lon

ime, and the man may have changed. In new country where everything's different must be a thing they're rather apt to do."

A faint, half-compassionate, halfolerant smile crept into Agatha's eyes

The mere idea that the sunny-temperedbrilliant young man whom she had give



her heart to could have changed odegenerated in any way seemed absurd ther. Winifred, however, went on again.

"There's another point," she said. "If he'still the same, which isn't likely, there hacertainly been a change in you. You have

earned to see things more clearly, andacquired a different standard from the onyou had then. One can't help growing, anas one grows one looks for more. One i

no longer pleased with the same thingst's inevitable."

She broke off for a moment, and he

voice grew gentler.

"Well," she added, "I've done my duty inrying to point this out to you, and now



here's only another thing to say: sincyou're clearly bent on going, I'm going ouwith you."

Agatha looked astonished, but there waa suggestion of relief in her expressionfor the two had been firm friends and ha

faced a good deal together.

"Oh," she said, "that gets over the ondifficulty."

Winifred made a little whimsicagesture. "I'm not quite sure that it doesThe difficulty will probably begin when

arrive in Canada, but I'm a rather capablperson, and I believe they don't pay onninepence a thousand words in WinnipegBesides, I could keep the books at a stor



or hotel, and at the very worst Gregorcould, perhaps, find a husband for meWomen, one understands, are after al

held in some estimation in that countryPerhaps there's a man out there whwould treat even a little, plain, vixenishempered person with a turned-up nos

decently."

Crossing the room again she banged thcover down on the typewriter, and the

urned to Agatha with a wide gesture and suggestion of haziness in her eyes.

"Anyway, I'm very tired of this one. I

would all be intolerable when you wenaway."

Agatha stretched out a hand and drew



her down beside her. She, at least, noonger feared adverse fortune anoneliness, and she was filled with

gentle compassion, for she knew how hara fight this girl had made, and part at leasof what she had borne.

"My dear," she said, "we will googether."

Then she opened the second letter

which she had forgotten in the meanwhile

"They want me to stay at the Grange foa few weeks," she said, and smiled. "A

hour ago I felt crushed and beaten—annow, though my voice has probably gonfor good, I don't seem to mind. Isn't ialmost bewilderingly curious that bot



hese letters should have come to sweepmy troubles away to-night?"

"No," said her companion; "it's distinctlnatural—just what one would havexpected. You wrote the man in Canadasoon after you'd seen the specialist, an

his answer was bound to arrive in the nexfew days."

"But I certainly didn't write the folks a

he Grange."

Winifred's eyes twinkled. "As ihappens, I did, two days ago. I ventured t

point out their duty to them, and they werrather nice about it in another letter."

Agatha stretched herself out in the low



chair with a little sigh of content. "Well,she said, "it probably wouldn't have theast effect if I scolded you. I believe I'

horribly worn out, Winny, and it will be arelief unspeakable to get away. If I caarrange to give up those pupils I'll go tomorrow."

Winifred made no answer, and kneelingwith one elbow resting on the arm of hecompanion's chair gazed straight in fron

of her. They were both of them very wearof the long grim struggle, and now change was close at hand.



CHAPTER V.

THE OLD COUNTRY.It was a still, clear evening of sprin

when Wyllard, unstrapping the ruchsac

from his shoulders, sat down beside frothing stream in a dale of NortherEngland. On arriving in London a week owo earlier he had found a letter fro

Mrs. Hastings, who was then in Parisawaiting him, in which she stated that shcould not at the moment say when shwould go home again, but that shexpected to advise him shortly. Afteanswering it he started North, andobtaining Agatha's address from Mis

Rawlinson, went on again to a certai



ittle town which stands encircled bowering fells beside a lake in the Nort

Country.

He had, however, already recognisedhat his mission was rather a delicate one

and he decided that it would be advisabl

o wait until he heard from Mrs. Hastingbefore calling upon Miss Ismay. Therhen remained the question, what to d

with the next few days. A conversation

with some pedestrian tourists whom hmet at his hotel, and a glance at a map ohe hill-tracks decided him, an

remembering that he had on severaoccasions kept the trail in Canada foclose on forty miles on end, he bought Swiss pattern ruchsack, and set out on foo

hrough the fells.



Incidentally, he saw such scenery agave him a new conception of the OlCountry, and nearly broke the hearts of hi

new friends the tourists, who volunteereo show him the way over what the

evidently considered to be a rathedifficult pass. To their great astonishmen

he brown-faced stranger, who worordinary tight-fitting American attire andrather pointed American shoes, went up iapparently without an effort, and for thcredit of the clubs they belonged to, iseemed incumbent on them to keep pacwith him. They naturally did not know tha

he had carried bags of flour and mininools over very much higher passes closup to the limit of eternal snow, but aftewo days' climbing they were, on th

whole, relieved to part company with him



A professional guide who overtoohem, however, recognised th

capabilities of the man when he notice

he way he lifted his feet and how he sehem down. This, he decided, was on

accustomed to walking among the heatherbut he was wrong; for it was the trick th

bushman learns when he plods througeagues of undergrowth and falle

branches, or the tall grass of the swampsand it is a memorable experience to maka day's journey with such a man. For thfirst hour the thing seems easy, for thpace is never forced, but it also neve

slackens down; and as the hours go by thnovice, who flounders and stumblesgrows horribly weary of trying to keep uwith that steady, persistent swing.



Wyllard had travelled since morninalong a ridge of fells when he sat dowbeside the water and contentedly filled hi

pipe. On the one hand, a wall of craghigh above was growing black against thevening light, and the stream came boilindown clear as crystal among great boulde

stones; but he had wandered through mana grander and more savage scene of rockdesolation, and it impressed him less thahe green valley in front of him. He had, aeast, never seen anything like that eithe

on the Pacific slope or in WesternCanada.

Early as it was in the season, thmeadows between rock and water wergreen as emerald, and the hedge-rows, jus

flushed with verdure, were clipped an



rimmed as though their owner loved themThere was not a dead tree in the larccopse which dipped to the stream, and al

ts feathery tassels were sprinkled witiny flecks of crimson and wondrou

green. Great oaks dotted the meadowseach one perfect in symmetry. It seemed

hat the men who held this land cared fosingle trees. The sleek, tame cattle tharubbed their necks on the level hedge-toand gazed at him ruminatively were verdifferent from the wild, long-hornecreatures whose furious stampede he hanow and then headed off, riding har

while the roar of hoofs rang through thdust-cloud that floated like a sea foacross the sun-scorched prairie. Here, iseemed, all went smoothly; the whole val

was steeped in peace and tranquillity.



Then he noticed the pale primroses thapushed their yellow flowers up among thwithered leaves, and the faint blue shee

beneath the beech trunks not far awayThere was a vein of artistic daintiness ihis man, and the elusive beauty of theshings curiously appealed to him. He ha

seen the riotous, sensuous blaze oflowers kissed by Pacific breezes, and thburnished gold of wheat that rolled imile-long waves; but it seemed to him thahe wild things of the English North were

after all, more wonderful. They matchets deep peacefulness; their beauty wa

chaste, fairy-like, and ethereal.

By and bye a wood pigeon cooed softlsomewhere in the shadows, and a brow

hrush perched on a bare oak bough bega



o sing. The broken, repeated melody wencuriously well with the rippling murmur osliding water, and Wyllard leaned back

with a smile to listen, though he could noremember ever having done anything ohat kind before. His life had been

strenuous one, spent for the most part i

he driving-seat of great ploughs that renheir ample furrows through virgin prairie

guiding the clinking binders through thwheat under a blazing sun, or driving thplunging dories through the clammy foover short, slopping seas. Now, howeverhe tranquillity of the English valley stol

n on him, and he began to understand howhe love of that well-trimmed land clung the men out West, who spoke of it tenderly

as the Old Country.



Then, for he was in an unusuallsusceptible mood, he took a little deerhidcase, artistically made by a Blackfoo

ndian, from his pocket, and extractefrom it the somewhat faded photograph oan English girl. He had got it from the lahe had buried among the ranges of th

Pacific slope, and it had been hicompanion in many a desolate camp anon many a weary journey. The face wadelicately modelled, and there was freshness in it which is, perhaps, seldoseen outside the Old Country; but whapleased him more was the serenity in th

clear, innocent eyes.

He was not in love with the picture—hwould probably have smiled at the notio

—but he had a curious feeling that h



would meet the girl some day, and that iwould then be a privilege only to speak ther. This was, after all, not so extravagan

a fancy as it might appear, for romancehe mother of chivalry and many graces

still finds shelter in the hearts of such meas him from the wide spaces of the newe

ands. Shrewd as they are, and practicahey see visions now and then, and, whas more, prove them to be realities wit

bleeding hands and toil incredible.

By and bye he put the photograph back ihis pocket, and filled his pipe again, whilt was almost dark before he had smoket out. The thrush had gone, and only th

ripple of the water broke the silence, untihe heard footsteps on the stones behin

him. Then, looking round, he saw a youn



woman moving towards the river, and hwatched her with a quiet interest, for hiperceptions were a little sharper tha

usual then, and it seemed to him that shwas very much in harmony with what hhought of as the key-tone of the place. Sh

was tall and shapely, and she moved wit

a quiet grace. When she stopped moment, poised upon a shelf of rock ahough considering the easiest way to th

water, her figure fell into reposeful linesbut that was after all only what he haexpected, for he now remembered that hhad half-consciously studied th

Englishwomen he had met in the West.

The Western women usually moved, andcertainly spoke, with an almos

superfluous vivacity and alertness. Ther



was in them a feverish activity, whiccontrasted with the English deliberationThe latter had sometimes exasperated him

but it was becoming comprehensible, anaking on a more favourable aspect now. I

was, he felt, born of the tranquillity of thiwell-trimmed land, a steadfastness tha

progressed slowly by system and rule, anhe recognised that it would have troublehis sense of fitness if this girl haclattered down across the stones hurriedland noisily.

As yet he could not see her face, buwhen she went on a little further it becamevident that she desired to cross the riverand was regarding the row of steppinstones that stretched across it somewha

dubiously. One or two had apparentl



fallen over, or been washed away by flood, for there were several rather widgaps between them, through which th

stream frothed whitely. As soon aWyllard noticed that, he rose and movedowards her.

"You want to get across?" he said.

She was still glancing at the water, bualthough he did not think she had seen hi

or heard his approach, she turned towardhim quietly. Then a momentary sense oastonishment held him almosembarrassed, for it was her picture he ha

gazed at scarcely half an hour ago, and hwould have recognised her anywhere.

"Yes," she said. "It is rather a long way



round by the bridge, but some of the stoneseem to have disappeared since I lascame this way."

She spoke, as Wyllard had expectedsoftly and quietly, but he was first of all man of action, and, somewhat to he

astonishment, he forthwith waded into thriver. Then he turned and held out his hano her.

"It isn't a very long step. You ought tomanage it," he said.

The girl favoured him with a swif

glance of scrutiny. At first she hadsupposed him to be one of the walkinourists or climbers who invaded thos

valleys at Easter; but they were, for th



most part, young men from the cities, anhis stranger's face was darkened by th

sun. There was also an indefinit

suggestion of strength in the pose of hiean, symmetrical figure, which, thoug

she did not recognise that fact, could onlhave come from strenuous labour in th

open air. She, however, noticed that whilehe average Englishman would have aske

permission to help her, or havdeprecated the offer, this stranger didnothing of the kind. He stood with thwater frothing about his ankles, holdinout his hand.

She had no hesitation about taking it, anwhile he waded through the river shstepped lightly from stone to stone unti

she came to a rather wider gap, where th



stream was deeper. Then she stopped moment, gazing at the sliding froth, untihe man's grasp tightened on her fingers

and she felt his other hand rest upon hewaist.

"Now," he said, "I won't let you fall."



"'Now,' he said, 'I won't let you fall.'"

She was across the gap in anothe

moment, wondering somewhat uneasilwhy she had obeyed the compellinpressure, but glad to see that his face waperfectly unmoved, and that he wa

evidently quite unconscious of havindone anything unusual. She crossewithout mishap, and when they stood ohe shingle he dropped her hand.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm afraid yogot rather wet."

The man laughed, and he had a pleasanaugh. "Oh," he said, "I'm used to it. Isnhere a village with a hotel in it, a mile owo from here?"



"Yes," said the girl, "this is the way. Thepath goes up to the high road through tharch wood."

She turned into it, and, though she hanot expected this, the man walked besidher. Still, she did not resent it. His manne

was deferential, and she liked his facewhile there was, after all, no reason whhe should stay behind when he was goinhe same way. He accompanied he

silently for several minutes as they wenon through the gloom of the larches, whera sweet, resinous odour crept into the stillevening air, and then he looked up as theycame to a towering pine.

"Have you got many of those trees ovehere?" he asked.



Then a light dawned upon the girl, forhough he had spoken without perceptibl

accent, she had been slightly puzzled b

something in his speech and appearance.

"I believe they're not uncommon. Youare an American?" she said.

Wyllard laughed. "No," he said. "I waborn in Western Canada, but I think I'm aEnglish as you are, in some respects

hough I never quite realised it until tonight. It isn't exactly because my fathecame from this country, either."

The girl was a trifle astonished at thianswer, and still more at the indefinitsomething in his manner which seemed tndicate that he expected her t



understand, as, indeed, she did. Her onldowry had been an expensive educationand she remembered that the influence o

he isle she lived in had in turn fastened oSaxons, Norsemen, Normans, and madhem Englishmen. What was more, so fa

as she had read, those who had gone ou

South or Westwards had carried thanfluence with them and, under all thei

surface changes, and sometimes theigrievances against the Motherland, weren the great essentials, wholly Englis

still.

"But," she said at random, "how can yobe sure that I'm English?"

It was quite dark in among the trees, bushe fancied there was a smile in he



companion's eyes.

"Oh," he answered simply, "you couldn

be anything else!"

She accepted this as a complimenthough she fancied that it had not been hi

direct intention to pay her one. His generaattitude since she had met him scarcelsuggested such a lack of sense. She wabecoming mildly interested in thi

stranger, but she possessed severaessentially English characteristics, and idid not appear advisable to encourage hioo much. She said nothing further, and i

was he who spoke first.

"I wonder," he said, "if you knew young lad who went out to Canada som



few years ago. His name was Pattinson—Henry Pattinson."

"No," said his companion, "I certainldid not. Besides, the name is not auncommon one. There are a good manPattinsons in the North."

Wyllard was not astonished at thianswer. He had reasons for believing thahe name the lad he had befriended ha

enrolled himself under was not his correcone. It would, of course, have been easy tdescribe him, but Wyllard was shrewdand noticing that there was now a restrain

n his companion's manner he was noprepared to do that yet. He was aware thamost of the English are characterised by certain reserve, and apt to retire into thei



shells if pressed too hard. He did nothowever, mean to let this girl elude hialtogether.

"It really doesn't matter," he said, "shall no doubt get upon his trail in duime."

They reached the high road a minute owo later, and the girl turned to him.

"Thank you again," she said. "If you gstraight on you will come to the village iabout a quarter of an hour."

Then she turned away and left histanding with his soft hat in his hand, andas it happened, he stood quite still foalmost a minute after she had gone. In du



ime, however, he reached the inn he hadnquired about, and its old-worl

simplicity delighted him. It was built, fee

hick, of slate stone, against the foot of thfell, and roofed, as he noticed, witponderous flags. In Canada, where thfrost was Arctic, they used thin ceda

shingles. The room his meal was broughhim in was panelled with oak that haurned black with age. Great rough-hew

beams of four times the size that anybodwould have used for the purpose in thWest supported the low ceiling, and—fohere was a fire on the wide hearth—th

ruddy gleam of burnished copper utensilpierced the shadows. The room was largeand there was only a single candle upohe table, but he felt that a garish ligh

would somehow be out of harmony wit



he atmosphere of that interior.

By and bye his hostess appeared to clea

he things away, and she was a littlewithered old woman, immaculately neawith shrewd, kindly eyes, and a russeinge in her cheeks.

"There's a good light, and company ihe sitting-room," she said. "We've three

young men staying with us. They've bee

up the Pike."

"I'd sooner stay here, if I may," saidWyllard. "I don't quite know yet if I'll go

on to-morrow. One can get through toLangley Dale by the Hause, as I think yocall it?"



The wrinkled dame said that pedestrianoften went that way, and Wyllard asked aquestion casually.

"There are some prosperous folks—people of station living round here?

"There's the vicar. I don't know that he'what you'd call prosperous. Then there'Mr. Martindale, of Rushyholme, andLittle, of the Ghyll."

"Has any of them a daughter of abouwenty-four years of age?" and Wyllard

described the girl he had met to the best o

his ability.

It was evident that the landlady did norecognise the description, but she seeme



o consider.

"No," she said, "there's nobody like that

but I did hear that they'd a young ladstaying at the vicarage."

Then she changed the subject abruptly

and Wyllard once more decided that thEnglish did not like questions.

"You're a stranger, sir?" she said.

"I am," said Wyllard. "I've sombusiness to attend to further on, but I camalong on foot, to see the fells, and I'm gla

did. It's a great and wonderful countryou're living in. That is," he addegravely, "when you get outside the townsThere are things in some of them that mos



make one ill."

Then he stood up. "That tray's too heav

for you. Won't you let me carry it?"

The landlady seemed astonished, but shmade it clear that she desired n

assistance, and when she went ouWyllard, who sat down again, took out thphotograph. He gazed at it steadfastly, andhen put it back into his pocket.

"There's rather more than merprettiness there, but I don't know that want to keep it now," he said. "It's wa

behind the original. She has grown in thmeanwhile—just as one would expect thagirl to grow."



Then he lighted his pipe, and smokehoughtfully until he appeared to arrive a

a decision.

"One can't force the running in thicountry. They don't like it," he said. "I'lie by a day or two, and keep an eye o

hat vicarage."

In the meanwhile his hostess wadiscussing him with a niece.

"I'm sure I don't know what that man is,she informed the younger woman. "He hagot the manners of a gentleman, but h

walks like a fell shepherd, and his handare like a navvy's. A man's hands now andhen tell you a good deal about him

Besides, of all things, he wanted to carr



his tray away. Said it was too heavy fome."

"Oh," said her niece, "he's an AmericanThere's no accounting for them."

CHAPTER VI.

HER PICTURE.

Wyllard stayed at the inn three daywithout seeing anything more of the girl hhad met beside the stream, though hdiligently watched for her. For one thing



he had long felt it was his duty tcommunicate with the relatives of the lahe had befriended, and the fact that he ha

found her photograph in the younEnglishman's possession made it appeahighly probable that she could assist hin tracing them. Apart from this, he could

not quite analyse his motives for desirino see more of her, though he wa

conscious of the desire. Her picture hadhowever, been a companion to him in hiwanderings, and he had, indeed, now anhen found a certain solace in gazing at it

while now he had seen her in the flesh h

was willing to admit that he had never meany woman who had made the sammpression on him. What he meant by tha

he was not quite certain; but it was in th

meanwhile as far as he would go.



It was, of course, open to him to call ahe vicarage, but though he meant to adophat course as a last resort, there wer

certain objections to it. He did not eveknow the girl's name, and there wanobody to say a word for him; while, sfar as his experience went, the Englis

were rather apt to be reticent and reserveo an unknown stranger. It seemed to hihat, although she might give him thnformation he required, thei

acquaintance would probably terminathen and there, which was not what h

desired. She would, he decided, be les

ikely to stand upon her guard if he coulcontrive to meet her casually without prearrangement.

On the fourth day fortune favoured him



for he came upon her endeavouring topen a tottering gate where a stony hilrack led off from the smooth white road

As it happened, he had received a lettefrom Mrs. Hastings that morning, fixinhe date of her departure, which renderet necessary for him to discharge the dut

Hawtrey had saddled him with as soon apossible. The Grange, where hunderstood Miss Ismay was then stayingay thirty miles away across the fells, an

he had already decided to start early ohe morrow. That being the case, it wa

clear that he must make the most of thi

opportunity; but he also realised that iwould be advisable to proceecircumspectly. Saying nothing, he set hishoulder to the gate, and lifting it on it

decrepit hinges swung it open.



"Thank you," said the girl, and thenremembering that this was the last thinshe had said to him, she smiled, as sh

added, "It is the second time you havurned up when I was in difficulties."

In spite of his resolution to procee

cautiously, a twinkle crept into Wyllard'eyes, and suggested that the fact she hamentioned was not so much of coincidence as it probably appeared. Sh

saw it, and was about to pass on, when hstopped her with a gesture. He was, afteall, usually a candid person.

"The fact is, I have been looking out foyou the last three days," he said.

He fancied the girl had taken alarm a



his, and spread his hands oudeprecatingly. "Won't you hear me out?he added. "There's a matter I must pu

before you, but I won't keep you long."

His companion was a little puzzled, annaturally curious. It struck her a

somewhat strange that his rather startlinadmission should have roused in her verittle indignation; but she felt that it woul

be unreasonable to suspect this man o

anything that savoured of impertinenceHis manner was reassuring, and she likehis face.

"Well?" she said inquiringly.

The man indicated a big oak trunk thaay just inside the gate.



"If you'll sit down, I'll get through aquick as I can," he said. "In the first place

am, as I told you, a Canadian, come ove

partly to see the country, and partly tocarry out one or two duties. In regard tone of them, I believe you can help me."

His companion's face was expressive oa very natural astonishment.

"I could help you?"

Wyllard nodded. "I'll explain mreasons for believing it later on," he said"In the meanwhile, I asked you a questio

he other night, which I'll now try to makmore explicit. Were you ever acquaintedwith a young Englishman who went tCanada from this country several year



ago? He would be about twenty then, anhad dark hair and eyes. That, of coursesn't an unusual thing, but there was

rather curious white mark on his lefemple. If he was ever a friend of yourshat scar ought to fix it."

"Oh!" said the girl, "that must have beeLance Radcliffe. I was with him when thscar was made—ever so long ago. Buyou said his name was Pattinson—and w

heard that he was dead."

"I did," said Wyllard gravely. "Still, wasn't quite sure of it, and he's certainl

dead. I buried him."

His companion made a little abrupmovement, and he saw the sudde



softening of her eyes. There washowever, only a gentle pity in them, andnothing in her manner suggested th

deeper feeling he had half-expected. Thawas also a relief to him.

"Then," she said, "I am sure that hi

father would like to meet you. There wasome trouble between them—I don't knowwhich was wrong—and Lance went out tCanada, and never wrote. By and bye

Major Radcliffe tried to trace him througa Vancouver banker, and only found thahe had died in the hands of a stranger whhad done all that was possible for him.She turned to Wyllard with a look whichset his heart beating rather faster thausual. "You are that man?"



"Yes," said Wyllard simply, "I did whacould for him. It didn't amount to ver

much. He was too far gone."

Then at her request he told her the storhe had told to Hawtrey, and when he hadfinished her face was soft again, for it ha

stirred her curiously.

"But," she said, "he had no claim oyou."

Wyllard lifted one hand as if iexpostulation. "He was dying in the bushWasn't that enough?"

The girl made no answer for a momenor two. She had earned her living foseveral years, and was, because of it, t



some extent acquainted with the grirealities of life. She did not know thawhile there are certainly hard men i

Canada, the small farmers and ranchers ohe West—and, perhaps above all, the

fearless free lances who build railroadand grapple with giant trees in the forest

of the Pacific slope—are, as a ruledistinguished by a splendid charity. Withhem the sick or worn-out stranger is ver

seldom turned away. Still, watching hecompanion covertly, she understood thahis man whom she had seen for the firsime three days ago had done exactly wha

she would have expected of him. Then shproceeded to give him the information shsupposed he desired.

"I saw a good deal of Lance Radcliffe—



when I was younger," she said. "Hipeople still live at Garside Scar, close bDufton Holme. I presume you will call o

hem?"

Wyllard said that he proposed doing soas he had a watch and one or two othe

mementoes that they might like to haveand when she told him how to reacDufton Holme by a very round-abourailway journey he supposed it la

somewhere in the dale to which halready purposed going. Then she turneo him again.

"There is one point that rather puzzleme," she said. "How did you know that could tell you anything about him?"



The man thrust his hand into his pocketand took out a little leather case.

"You are by no means a stranger to me,he said, and quietly handed her thphotograph. "This is your picture; I fount among the dead lad's things."

The girl, who started visibly, flashed very keen glance at him. There washowever, no doubt that he had no

ntended to produce any dramatic effectThen she flushed a little.

"I never knew he had it," she said

"Perhaps he got it from his sister." Shpaused, and then, as though impelled tmake the fact quite clear, added, "certainly never gave it him."



Wyllard smiled gravely, for herecognised that while she was clearlgrieved to hear of his death, she coul

have had no particular tenderness for thunfortunate lad. He was, however, a littloff his guard just then.

"Well," he said, "perhaps he took it inhe first place for the mere beauty of i

and it afterwards became a companion—something that connected him with the Ol

Country. It appealed in one of those wayo me."

Again she flashed a sharp glance at him

but he went on unheeding:

"When I found it I meant to keep imerely as a clue, and so that it could b



given up to his relatives some day," hadded. "Then I fell into the habit oooking at it in my lonely camp in the bus

at night, and when I sat beside the stovwhile the snow lay deep upon the prairieThere was something in your eyes thaseemed to encourage me."

"To encourage you?"

"Yes," Wyllard assented gravely; "

hink that expresses it. When I camped ihe bush of the Pacific slope we wer

either out on the gold trail—and wgenerally came back ragged an

unsuccessful after spending severamonths' wages which we could badlspare—or I was going from one woodeown to another without a dollar in m



pocket and wondering, how I was tobtain one when I got there. For a time iwasn't much more cheerful on the prairie

wice in succession the harvest failedPerhaps Lance Radcliffe felt as I did."

The girl cut him short. "Why didn't yo

mention the photograph at once?"

Wyllard smiled at her. "Oh," he said, "didn't want to be precipitate—your folk

don't seem to like that; I've met them ouWest. I think"—and he seemed to conside—"I wanted to make sure you wouldn't brepelled by what might look like Colonia

brusquerie. You see, you have been ovesnow-barred divides and through greashadowy forests with me. We've campedamong the boulders by lonely lakes, an



gone down frothing rapids. I felt—I canell you why—that I was bound to mee

you some day."

It was, perhaps, a trifle startling, but thgirl now showed neither astonishment noresentment. She felt curiously certain tha

his stranger was not posing or speakinfor effect. It did not occur to him that hmight have gone too far, and for a spache leaned against the gate, saying nothing

while she looked at him with what hhought of as her gracious English calm.

Pale sunshine fell upon them, though th

arches beside the road were rustlinbeneath a little cold wind, and the song ohe river came up brokenly out of th

valley. An odour of fresh grass floated



about them, and the dry, cold smell of thEnglish spring was in the air. Across thevalley dim ghosts of hills lighted b

evanescent gleams rose out of the easwind greyness with shadowy grandeur.

Then Wyllard seemed to rouse himself

"I wonder if I ought to write MajoRadcliffe and tell him what my object ibefore I call?" he said. "It would make thhing a little easier."

The girl rose. "Yes," she assented, "thawould, perhaps, be wiser." Then shglanced at the photograph which was stil

n her hand. "It has served its purpose. scarcely think it would be of any greanterest to Major Radcliffe."



She saw his face change as she made ievident that she did not mean to give thportrait back to him; but there was, a

east, one excellent reason why she woulnot have her picture in a strange man'hands.

"Thank you," she said, "for the story. am glad we have met; but I'm afraid I havalready kept my friends waiting for me."

Then she turned away, and it occurred toWyllard that he had made a verndifferent use of the opportunity, sinc

she had neither asked his name nor tol

him hers. It was, however, evident that hcould not well run after her and demand iand he decided that he could in alprobability obtain it from Major Radcliff



when he called upon him. Still, hregretted his lack of adroitness as hwalked back to the inn, where he wrot

wo letters when he had consulted a mapand his landlady. Dufton Holme, hdiscovered, was a small village within mile or two of the Grange where, as Mis

Rawlinson had informed him, Agathsmay was then staying. One letter wa

addressed to her, and he formally askedpermission to call upon her with message from Gregory Hawtrey. The othewas to Major Radcliffe, and in both hsaid that an answer would reach him at th

nn which his landlady had informed hiwas to be found not far from either of thhouses he proposed to visit.

He set out on foot next morning, an



after climbing a steep pass followed winding track across a waste of emptmoor until he struck a smooth white road

which led past a rock-girt lake and into deep valley. It was six o'clock when hstarted, and three when he reached the innwhere he found an answer to one of hi

etters awaiting him. It was from MajoRadcliffe, who desired an interview withim as soon as possible.

Within an hour he was on his way to thMajor's house, where a grey-haired manwhose yellow skin suggested lonexposure to a tropical sun, and a littlwithered lady were waiting for him. Thereceived him graciously, but there was anndefinite something in their manner an

bearing which Wyllard, who had read



good deal, recognised, though he hanever been brought into actual contacwith it until then. He felt that he could no

have expected to come across such peoplanywhere but in England, unless it was ahe headquarters of a British battalion india.

He told his story tersely, softeninunpleasant details, and making little owhat he had done, and the grey-haired ma

istened gravely with an unmoved facehough a trace of moisture crept into thittle lady's eyes. There was silence for

moment or two when he had finished, anhen Major Radcliffe, whose manner wa

very quiet, turned to him.

"You have laid me under an obligation



which I could never wipe out, even if wished it," he said. "It was my only soyou buried out there in Canada."

He broke off for a moment, and hiquietness was more marked than evewhen he went on again.

"As you have no doubt surmised, wquarrelled," he said. "He was extravaganand careless—at least I thought that then—

but now it seems to me that I was undulhard on him. His mother"—and he turneo the little lady with an inclination tha

pleased Wyllard curiously—"was sure o

t at the time. In any case, I took the wronway, and he went out to Canada. I madhat, at least, easy for him—and I hav

been sorry ever since."



He paused again with a little expressivgesture. "It seems due to him, and you, tha

should tell you this. When no wor

reached us I had inquiries made, through banker he called upon, who, discoverinhat he had registered at a hotel a

Pattinson, at length traced him to a Britis

Columbian silver mine. He had, howevereft it shortly before my correspondenearned that he had been employed there

and all the latter could tell me was that aunknown prospector had nursed him untihe died."

Wyllard, who said nothing, took out watch and the clasp of a workman's belfrom his pocket, and laid them gently oMrs. Radcliffe's knee. He saw her eye

fill, and turned his head away.



"I feel that you may blame me for nowriting sooner, but it was only a verittle while ago that I was able to trac

you, and then it was only by a very curiou—coincidence," he said presently.

This was the most apposite word tha

occurred to him, for he did not consider iadvisable to mention the photograph. Iseemed to him that the girl would not likt. Nor, though he was greatly tempted, did

he care to make inquiries concerning heust then. In another moment or two th

Major spoke again.

"If I can make your stay here pleasanten any way I should be delighted," he said

"If you will take up your quarters with us will send down to the inn for your things."



Wyllard excused himself, but when thady urged him at least to dine with the

on the following evening he appeared t

consider.

"The one difficulty is that I don't knowyet whether I shall be engaged then," h

explained. "As it happens, I've a messagfor Miss Ismay, and I wrote offering tocall upon her at any convenient hour. Sofar I have heard nothing from her."

"She's away," Mrs. Radcliffe informedhim. "They have probably sent your letteon to her. I had a note from her yesterday

however, and expect her here to-morrowYou have met some friends of hers inCanada?"



"Gregory Hawtrey," said Wyllard. "have promised to call upon his peopleoo."

He saw Major Radcliffe glance at hiwife, and the faint gleam in the latter'eyes.

"Well," she said, "if you will promise tocome I will send word over to Agatha."

Wyllard agreed to this, and went away few minutes later. He noticed the tact andconsideration with which his new friendhad refrained from expressing any sign o

he curiosity he fancied they naturally felfor Mrs. Radcliffe's face had suggestehat she understood the situation. Thatter was, however, commencing to



appear a little more difficult to him. Iwas, it seemed, his task to explain to a girbrought up among such people delicatel

what she must be prepared to face as farmer's wife in Western Canada. He wanot sure that this would be easy in itselfbut it was rendered much more difficult b

he fact that Hawtrey would expect him taccomplish it without unduly daunting herHer letter had certainly suggested couragebut, after all, it was as he reflected thcourage of ignorance, and he had nowsome notion of the life of ease anrefinement her English friends led. H

was commencing to feel sorry for Agathsmay.



CHAPTER VII.

AGATHA DOES NOT

FLINCH.

Next evening Wyllard sat with MrsRadcliffe in a big low-ceilinged room a

Garside Scar, looking about him witquiet interest. He had now and then spena day or two in huge Western hotels, buhe had never seen anything quite like tha

room. The sheer physical comfort of itarrangements appealed to him, but after alhe was not one who had ever studied hibodily ease very much, and what h

regarded as the chaste refinement of it



adornment had a deeper effect. Though hhad lived for the most part in the bush anon the prairie, he had been endued with o

had somehow acquired an artistisusceptibility.

The furniture was old, and perhaps

rifle shabby, but it was, as he noticed, obeautiful design. Curtains, carpets, tintewalls, formed, it seemed to him, harmony of soft colouring, and there wer

scattered here and there dainty works oart, little statuettes from Italy, andwonderful Indian ivory and silver workThen a row of low, stone-ribbed windowpierced the front of the room, and lookinout he saw the trim garden lying in thwarm evening light. Immediately beneat

he windows ran a broad gravelle



errace, which was apparently rakesmooth every day, with a row of urns iwhich hyacinths bloomed upon its pillare

wall. From the middle of it a widstairway led down to the wonderful velveawn, which was dotted with clumps o

cupressus with golden gleams in it, an

beyond that clipped yews rose smooth ansolid as a rampart of stone.

It all impressed him curiously—th

order and beauty of it, the signs of lovincare. It gave him a key, he fancied, to thives the cultured English led, for ther

was no sign of strain and fret and stresand hurry here. Everything, it seemedwent smoothly with rhythmic regularityand though it is possible that a good man

Englishmen would have regarded Garsid



Scar as a very second-rate country houseand seen in Major Radcliffe and his wifnothing more than a somewhat prosy ol

soldier and a withered lady, old-fashionen her dress and views, this Westerner had

what was, perhaps, a clearer vision. Hcould imagine the Major standing fast a

any cost upon some minute point ohonour, and it seemed to him that his ladmight have stepped down from some olpicture with all the graces of an earlieage and the smell of the English lavendeupon her garments. Then he rememberehat, after all, Englishwomen live

somewhat coarsely in the Georgian daysand that he had met hard-handed megrimed with dust and sweat who coulalso stand fast by a point of honour i

Western Canada. Though the latter fact di



not occur to him, he had, for that matterdone it more than once himself.

Then he recalled his wandering thoughtas his hostess smiled at him.

"You are interested in all you see?" she

asked frankly.

"Yes, madam," said Wyllard—and theword rose instinctively to his lips, for i

seemed to him the only fitting way taddress her. "In fact, I'd like to spendsome hours here and look at everything'd begin at the pictures and work righ

round."

His companion's smile suggested thashe was not displeased.



"But you have been in London?"

"I have," said Wyllard. "I had one o

wo letters to folks there from big floushippers, and they did all they could tentertain me. Still, their places werdifferent; they hadn't the—charm—o

yours. It's something which I think coulonly exist in these still valleys and icathedral closes. It strikes me morbecause it is something I've never bee

accustomed to."

The lady was interested, and fancied thashe partly understood his attitude.

"Your life is necessarily different fromours," she suggested.



Wyllard smiled. "It's so different thayou couldn't realise it. It's all strain aneffort from early sunrise until after dusk a

night. Bodily strain of aching muscles, anmental stress in adverse seasons. Wescarcely think of comfort, and nevedream of artistic luxury. The dollars w

raise are sunk again in seed and extreams and ploughs."

"After all, a good many people ar

driven rather hard by the love of monehere."

"No," said Wyllard gravely, "that's not i

exactly. At least, not with most of us. It'rather the pride of wresting anothequarter-section from the prairie, taking—our own—by labour, breaking th



wilderness. You"—and he added this ashough to explain that he could hardl

expect her to quite grasp his view

—"have never been out West?"

His hostess laughed. "I have stayedown in the plains through the hot seaso

n stifling cantonments, and I have once owice been in Indian cholera camps

Besides, I have seen my husband sittinghaggard and worn with fever, in hi

saddle holding back a clamorous crowhat surged about him half-mad wit

religious fury. There were Hindus andMoslems to be kept from flying at eacothers' throats, and at a tactless word osign of wavering either party would havpulled him down."



"You'll have to forgive me, madam"—and Wyllard's gesture was deprecatoryhough his eyes twinkled. "The notion tha

we're the only ones who really work, orat least, do anything worth while, is rathea favourite one out West. No doubt it's adelusion. I should have known that all o

us are born like that."

His hostess forgave him readily, if onlfor the "all of us," which struck her a

especially fortunate. A few minutes latehere were voices in the hall, and then th

door opened, and the girl he had met at thstepping stones came in. She was dressedifferently, in trailing garments which, iseemed to him, became her wonderfullyand he noticed now the shapely delicac

of her hands and the fine, ivory pallor o



her skin. Then his hostess turned to him.

"I had better present you formally t

Miss Ismay," she said. "Agatha, this is MrWyllard, who I understand has broughyou a message from Canada."

There was no doubt that Wyllard wablankly astonished, and for a moment thgirl was clearly startled, too.

"You!" was all she said.



"'You!' was all she said.

She, however, held her hand out befor

she turned to speak to Mrs. Radcliffe, but was a slight relief to both whe

somebody announced that dinner waready.

Wyllard sat next to his hostess, and wanot sorry that he was only called upon take part in casual general conversation

hough he fancied once or twice that Missmay was unobtrusively studying him. I

was also nearly an hour after the meal waover when Mrs. Radcliffe left them alonn her little drawing-room.

"You have, no doubt, a good deal to talkabout, and you needn't join us until you'r



ready," she said. "The Major alwayreads the London papers after dinner."

Agatha sat down in a low chair near thhearth, and it first of all occurred tWyllard, who took a place opposite herhat she was, although of full stature, to

delicate and dainty, too over-cultivated, ifact, to marry Hawtrey. This was rathecurious, since he had hitherto regarded hicomrade as a typical, well-educate

Englishman; but it now seemed to him thahere was a certain streak of coarseness i

Gregory. The man, it suddenly flashedupon him, was self-indulgent, and hicareless ease of manner, which he hadonce liked, was rather too much ievidence. In a few moments, however

Agatha turned to him.



"I understand that Gregory is recoverinrapidly?" she said.

Wyllard assured her that this was thcase, and Agatha said quietly, "He wantme to go out to him."

Wyllard felt that if a girl of this kind hadpromised to marry him he would not havsent for her but have come in person, if hhad been compelled to pledge his las

possessions, or crawl to the tideway ohis hands and knees. For all that, he waready to defend his friend.

"I'm afraid it's necessary," he said"Gregory was quite unfit for such ourney when I left, and he must be reado commence the season's campaign wit



he first of the spring. Our summer ishort, you see, and with our one-crofarming it's indispensable to get the see

n early: in fact, he will be badly behinas it is."

This was not particularly tactful since

without intending it, he made it evidenhat he felt his comrade had been to som

extent remiss; but Agatha smiled.

"Oh," she said, "I understand! Youneedn't labour the excuse. But doesn't thsame thing apply to you?"

"It certainly did. Now, however, thinghave become a little easier. My holding'arger than Gregory's, and I have

foreman who can look after it for me."



"Gregory said that you were a greafriend of his."

Wyllard seized this opportunity. "He is agreat friend of mine, and I like to think imeans the same thing. In fact, it'reasonably certain that he saved my lif

for me."

"Ah!" said Agatha; "that is a thing hdidn't mention. How did it come about?"

Wyllard was glad to tell the story: hwas anxious to say all he honestly could iHawtrey's favour.

"We were at work on a railroad trestle—a towering wooden bridge, in BritisColumbia. It stretched across a deep



ravine with great boulders and a stream ihe bottom of it, and we stood high up on

staging close beneath the metals. A fas

freight, a huge general produce train, camdown the track, with one of the new biocomotives hauling it, and when the car

went banging by above us we could hardl

hold on to the bridge. Still, thconstruction foreman was a hustler, andwe had to get the spikes in. I waswinging the hammer when I felt the planbeneath me slip. The train, it seems, haarred the bolt we had our lashings rounoose. For a moment I felt that I was goin

down into the gorge, and then Gregoreaned out and grabbed me. He had onlone free hand to do it with, and when hfelt my weight one foot swung out from th

stringer he had sprung to. It seeme



certain that I would pull him with me, tooWe hung like that for a space—I donquite know how long."

He paused for a moment, apparentlfeeling the stress of it again, and there waa faint thrill in his voice when he went on

"It was then," he said, "I knew just whakind of man Gregory Hawtrey wasAnybody else would have let me go; bu

he held on. Then I got my hand on some ohe framing, and he swung me on to th

stringer."

He saw the gleam in Agatha's eyes"Oh!" she said, "that is just what he mushave done. He was like that always—mpulsive, splendidly generous."



Wyllard felt that he had succeededhough he knew that there were men on th

prairie who called his comrade slackl

careless, instead of impulsive. Agathahowever, spoke again.

"But Gregory wasn't a carpenter," sh

said.

"In those days when dollars were scantwe had to be whatever we could. Ther

wasn't much specialisation of handicraftout there then. The farmer whose crop waruined took up the railroad shovel, oborrowed a saw from somebody and se

about building houses, or anything elshat was wanted."

"Of course!" said Agatha. "Besides, h



was always wonderfully quick. He coulearn any game by just watching it awhile

He did all he undertook brilliantly."

It occurred to Wyllard that Gregory hadat least, made no great success of farmingbut that occupation, as practised on th

prairie, demands a good deal more thaquickness and what some call brilliancfrom the man who undertakes it. He musas they say out there, possess the capacit

for staying with it; the grim courage thold fast the tighter under each crushinblow, when his teams die, or the graishrivels under the harvest frost, or raggece hurtling before a roaring blast does th

reaping. It was, however, evident that thigirl had an unquestioning faith in Gregor

Hawtrey, and once more Wyllard fel



compassionate towards her. He wonderedf she would have retained it had the ma

spent those four years in England instea

of Canada: for it was clear from thcontrast between her and her picture thashe had grown in many ways since she hagiven her promise to her lover. He had

said what he could in Hawtrey's favourbut now he felt that something was due the girl.

"Gregory told me to explain what thingare like out there," he said. "I think it ibecause they are so different from whayou are accustomed to that he has waiteas long as he has done. He wanted to makhem as easy as possible for you, and now

he would like you to realise what i

before you."



He was almost astonished at the girl'comprehension, for she glanced round thuxurious room with a faint smile.

"You look on me as part of—this? mean it seems to you that I fit in with msurroundings, and would only be i

harmony with them?"

"Yes," said Wyllard gravely, "I thinkyou fit in with them excellently."

Agatha laughed. "Well," she said, "I waonce, to a certain extent, accustomed tsomething similar; though, after all, on

could hardly compare the Grange witGarside Scar. Still, that was some timago, and I have earned my living foseveral years now. That counts fo



something, doesn't it?"

She glanced down at her dress. "Fo

nstance, this is the result of a good deaof self-denial, though the cost of it wapartly worked off in music lessons, anhe stuff was almost the cheapest I coul

get. I sang at concerts—and it was part omy stock-in-trade. After all, why shouldyou think me only capable of living iuxury?"

"I didn't quite go that far."

She laughed again. "Then is Canada suc

a very dreadful place? I have heard oother Englishwomen going out there afarmers' wives. Do they all livunhappily?"



"No," said Wyllard; "at least, they showno sign of it, and some of them and thcity-born Canadians are, I think, the salt o

his earth. Probably it's easy to be caland gracious in such a place as this—hough I naturally don't know since I'v

never tried it—but when a woman wh

oils from sunrise to sunset most of thyear keeps her sweetness and serenity, it'a very different and much finer thing. Bu'll try to answer the other question. Th

prairie isn't dreadful; it's a land osunshine and clear skies. Heat and cold—and we have them both—don't worry on

here. There's optimism in the crystal airt's not beautiful like these valleys, but ihas its beauty. It's vast and silent, andhough our homesteads are crude and new

once you pass the breaking it's primevall



old. That gets hold of one somehow. It'wonderful after sunset in the early springwhen the little cold wind's like wine, an

t runs white to the horizon with the smokred on the rim of it melting intranscendental green. When the whea

rolls across the foreground in ochre an

burnished copper waves, it's morwonderful still. One sees the fulfilment ohe promise, and takes courage."

"Then," said Agatha, who had scarcelsuspected him of a capacity for sucflights as this, "what is there to shrinfrom?"

"In the case of a small farmer's wife, thconstant, never-slackening strain. There'no hired assistance; she must clean th



house, and wash, and cook—though it'not unusual for the men to wash thplates."

The girl was evidently not mucmpressed, for she laughed.

"Does Gregory wash the plates?" shasked.

Wyllard's eyes twinkled. "Whe

Sproatly won't," he said. "Still, in general way they only do it once a week."

"Ah," said Agatha, "I can imagin

Gregory hating it. As a matter of fact, ike him for it."

"Then she must bake, and mend he

husband's clothes. Indeed, it's not unusua



for her to mend for the hired man tooBesides that, there are always odds anends of tasks, but the time when you fee

he strain most is in the winter. Then yosit at night, shivering, as a rule, beside thstove in an almost empty log-walleroom, reading a book you have probabl

read three or four times before. Outsidehe frost is Arctic; you can hear th

roofing shingles crackle now and then; anyou wake up when the fire burns lowThere's no life, no company, rarely a newface, and if you go to a dance or suppesomewhere, perhaps once a month, yo

ride back on a bob-sled frozen almost stifbeneath the robes."

"Still," said Agatha, "that does not last."



The man understood her. "Oh!" he said"one makes progress—that is, if one castand the strain—but, as the one way o

doing it is to sow for a larger harvest anbreak fresh sod every year, there can bno slackening down in the meanwhileEvery dollar must be guarded an

ploughed into the soil again."

He broke off, feeling that he had done alhat could reasonably be expected of him

and Agatha asked one question.

"A woman who didn't slacken couldmake the struggle easier for the man?"

"Yes," said Wyllard simply, "in everyway. Still, she would have a great deal tobear."



Agatha's face softened. "Ah," she said"she would not grudge the effort in thcase of one she loved."

Then she looked up again with a smile"I wonder," she added, "if you reallhought I should flinch."

"When I first heard of it, I thought iquite likely. Then when I read your lettemy doubts vanished."

He saw he had not been judicious, fohere was, for the first time, a trace o

hardness in the girl's expression.

"He showed you that?" she asked.

"One small part of it," said Wyllard. "

want to say that when I saw this house



and how you seemed fitted to it, mmisgivings about Gregory's decisioroubled me once more. Now"—and h

made a little impressive gesture—"thehave vanished altogether, and they'll nevecome back again."

He spoke as he felt. This girl, hfancied, would feel the strain; but iseemed to him that she had strength enougo bear it cheerfully. In spite of he

daintiness, she was one who, in time ostress, could be depended on. He ofteremembered afterwards how they had saogether in the little, luxuriously furnishe

room, she leaning back, with the soft lighon her delicately tinted face, in her bigow chair. In the meanwhile she said

nothing, and by and bye he looked up a



her.

"It's curious that I had your photograp

ever so long, and never thought oshowing it Gregory," he said.

Agatha smiled. "I suppose it is," sh

admitted. "After all, except that it mighhave been a relief to Major Radcliffe if hhad met you sooner, the fact that you didnshow it Gregory doesn't seem of an

particular consequence."

Wyllard was not quite sure of this. Hhad thought about this girl often, and ha

certainly been conscious of a curious thrilof satisfaction when he had met her at thstepping-stones a few days earlier. Thafeeling had also suddenly disappeare



when he had learned that she was hicomrade's promised wife. He hadhowever, during the last hour or two mad

up his mind to think no more of her.

"Well," he said, "the next thing is toarrange for Mrs. Hastings to meet you i

London, or, perhaps, at the Grange. Hehusband is a Canadian, a man oeducation, who has quite a larghomestead not far from Gregory's. He

folks are people of station in Montreaand I feel sure that you'll like her."

They decided that he was to ask Mrs

Hastings to stay a few days at the Grangeand then he looked at the girl somewhadiffidently.



"She suggests going in a fortnight," hsaid.

Agatha smiled at him. "Then," she said"I must not keep her waiting."

She rose, and they went back together t

oin their hostess.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE TRAVELLING

COMPANION.



A grey haze, thickened by the smoke ohe city, drove out across the water whehe Scarrowmania lay in the Mersey, wit

her cable hove short, and the last of thflood tide gurgling against her bows. Arumpeting blast of steam swept high alof

from beside her squat funnel, and th

splash of the slowly turning paddles of thcouple of steam tugs that lay alongsidmingled with the din it made. A gangwayfrom one of them led to thScarrowmania's forward deck, and stream of frowsy humanity that had jusbeen released from overpacked emigran

boarding-houses poured up it. There werapparently representatives of all peopleand languages among that unkempt hord—Britons, Scandinavians, Teutons

talians, Russians, Poles—and they move



on in forlorn apathy, like cattle driven tohe slaughter. One wondered, from thook of them, how they had raised thei

passage money, and how many yearsbitter self-denial it had cost them tprovide for their transit to the land opromise.

At the head of the gangway stood thsteamboat doctors, for the Scarrowmani

was taking out an unusual number o

passengers, and there were two of themThey were immaculate in blue uniformand looked very clean and English bcontrast with the mass of frowsy aliensBeside them stood another officiapresumably acting on behalf of thDominion Government, though there wer

few restrictions imposed upon Canadia



mmigration then, nor for that matter dianybody trouble much about the comfort ohe steerage passengers. Though they hav

altered all that latterly, each steamer, in ageneral way, carried as many as she couldhold.

As the stream poured out of thgangway, the doctor glanced at each newcomer's face, and then seizing him by thwrist uncovered it. Since this took hi

wo or three seconds, one could havfancied that he either possessed peculiapowers, or that the test was a somewhanefficient one. Then he looked at th

official, who made a sign, and the mamoved on.

In the meanwhile a group of first-clas



passengers leaning on the thwart-ship railclose by looked on, with complacensatisfaction with the fact that they wer

born in a different station, or halfcontemptuous pity, as their temperamenvaried. Among them stood Mrs. HastingsMiss Winifred Rawlinson, and Agatha

The latter noticed that Wyllard sat on hatch forward near the head of thgangway, with a pipe in his hand. Shdrew Mrs. Hastings's attention to it.

"Whatever is Mr. Wyllard doing there?she asked.

Her companion, who was wrapped ifurs, for there was a sting in the east windsmiled at her.



"That," she said, "is more than I can telyou; but Harry Wyllard seems to find anterest in what other folks woul

consider most unpromising things, andwhat's more to the purpose, he's ratheaddicted to taking a hand in. It's a habihat costs him something now and then."

Agatha asked nothing further. She wanterested in Wyllard, but she was at th

moment more interested in the faces o

hose who swarmed on board. Shwondered what they had endured in thands that had cast them out, and what the

might still have to bear. It seemed to hehat the murmur of their harsh voices wen

up in a great protest, an inarticulate cry osorrow. While she looked on the docto

held back a long-haired man who wa



following a haggard woman shuffling ibroken boots. He drew him aside, anwhen, after he had apparently consulte

with the other official, two seamen hustlehe man towards a second gangway thaed to the tug, the woman raised a wild

despairing cry. It, however, seemed tha

she blocked the passage, and quartermaster drove her, expostulating ian agony of terror, forward among threst. Nobody appeared concerned abouhis alien's tragedy, except one man, bu

Agatha was not astonished when Wyllardrose and quietly laid his hand upon th

official's shoulder.

A parley appeared to follow, somebodygave an order, and when the alien was led

back again the woman's cries subsided



Agatha looked at her companion, and oncmore a smile crept into Mrs. Hastings'eyes.

"Yes," she said, "I guessed he wouldfeel he had to stand in. That's a man whcan't see any one in trouble." Then sh

added, with a little whimsical sigh, "Hhad a bonanza harvest last fall, any way."

They moved aft soon afterwards, and th

Scarrowmania was smoothly slidinseawards with the first of the ebb wheAgatha met Wyllard. He glanced at thLancashire sandhills, which were fadin

nto a pale ochre gleam amidst the hazover the starboard hand, and then at thong row of painted buoys that move

back to them ahead.



"You're off at last! The sad grey weathes dropping fast astern," he said. "Ou

yonder, the skies are clear."

"Thank you," said Agatha, "I'm to applhat as I like? As a matter of fact

however, our days weren't always grey

But what was the trouble when thossteerage people came on board?"

Wyllard's manner, as she noticed, wa

free alike from the complacent selfsatisfaction which occasionallcharacterises the philanthropist, and anaffectation of diffidence.

"Well," he said, "there was somethingwrong with that woman's husband

othing infectious, I believe, but the



didn't seem to consider him a desirablcitizen. They make a warning example osomebody with a physical infirmity now

and then. The man, they decided, must bput ashore again. In the meanwhilesomebody else had hustled the womaforward, and it almost looked as if they'

have taken her on without him. The tuwas almost ready to cast off."

"How dreadful!" said Agatha. "But wha

did you do?"

"Merely promised to guarantee the cosof his passage back if they'd refer his cas

o the immigration people at the other endt's scarcely likely that they'll makrouble. As a rule, they only throw folk

who're certain to become a charge on th



community."

"But if he really had any infirmity

mightn't it lead to that?"

"No," said Wyllard drily. "I wouldengage to give him a fair start if it wa

necessary. You wouldn't have had thawoman landed in Montreal, helpless analone, while the man was sent back agaio starve in Poland?"

He saw a curious liquid gleam iAgatha's eyes, and added in a deprecatinmanner, "You see, I've now and then

imped without a dollar into a BritisColumbian mining town."

The girl was a little stirred; but ther



was another matter that must bmentioned, though she felt that the timwas somewhat inopportune.

"Miss Rawlinson, who had only second-class ticket, insists upon beinold how it is that she has been transferre

o the saloon."

Wyllard's eyes twinkled, but she noticedhat he was wholly free fro

embarrassment, which was not quite thcase with her.

"Well," he said, "that's a matter I mus

eave you to handle. Anyway, she can't gosecond-class now. One or two of thsteerage exchanged when they saw theiquarters, for which I don't blame them



and they've filled every room right up."

"You haven't answered the question."

Wyllard waved his hand. "MisRawlinson is your bridesmaid, and I'Gregory's best man. It seems to me it's m

business to do everything just as he'd likt done."

He left her a moment later, and, thoug

she did not know how she was to explaihe matter to Miss Rawlinson, who was o

an independent disposition, it occurred ther that he, at least, had found a rathe

graceful way out of the difficulty. Thmore she saw of this Western farmer, themore she liked him.



It was after dinner when she next mehim, and, for the wind had changed, thScarrowmania was steaming head-on int

a glorious north-west breeze. The shroudsang; chain-guy, and stanchion, andwhatever caught the wind, set up a deeponed throbbing; and ranks of little, white

opped seas rolled out of the night aheadA half-moon hung low above themblurred now and then by wisps of flyincloud, and odd spouts of spray thagleamed in the silvery light leapt up abouhe dipping bows. Wyllard was leaning onhe rails, with a cigar in his hand, whe

she stopped beside him, and she glanceowards the lighted windows of thsmoke-room not far away.

"How is it you are not in there?" sh



asked, for something to say.

"I was," said Wyllard. "It's rather ful

up, and it seemed they didn't want meThey're busy playing cards, and the stakeare rather high. In a general way, steamboat's smoke-room is less of a men'

ounge than a gambling club."

"And you object to cards?"

"Oh, no!" said Wyllard. "They merelmake me tired, and when I feel I wansome excitement for my dollars I get ianother way. That one seems tame to me."

"Which is the one you like?"

The man laughed. "There are a goo

many that appeal to me. Once it wa



collecting sealskins off other people'beaches, and there was zest enough in than view of the probability of the dor

urning over, or a gunboat dropping on toyou. Then there was a good deal of vergenuine excitement to be got out of placermining in British Columbia, especiall

when there was frost in the ranges, anyou had to thaw out your giant-powderShallow alluvial workings have a way ocaving in when you least expect it of themAfter all, however, I think I like thprairie farming best."

"Is that exciting?"

"Yes," said Wyllard, "if you do it in oneway. The gold's there—that you're sure o—piled up by nature during I don't know



how many thousand years, but you have tstake high if you want to get much of it ouOne needs costly labour, teams—no end

of them—breakers, and big gang-ploughThe farmer who has nerve enough drillhis last dollar into the soil in spring, but ihe means to succeed it costs him mor

han that. He must give the sweat of hiensest effort, the uttermost toil of his bod

—all, in fact, that has been given himThen he must shut his eyes tight to thhazards against him, or, and we can't aldo that, look at them without wavering—he drought, the hail, the harvest frost. I

his teams fall sick, or the season goeagainst him, he must work double tidesStill, it now and then happens that thinggo right, and the red wheat rolls ripe righ

back across the prairie. I don't know tha



any man could want a keener thrill than thone you feel when you drive the bindern!"

Agatha had imagination, and she coulrealise something of the toil, the hazardand the clean thrill of that victory.

"You have felt it often?" she said.

"Twice we helped to fill a big elevato

up," said Wyllard quietly. "Still, I've beenvery near defeat."

The girl looked at him thoughtfully. I

seemed that he possessed the power oacquisition, as well as a wide generosithat came into play when by strenuou

effort success had been attained, which, s



far as her experience went, were thinghat did not invariably accompany eac

other.

"And when the harvest comes up to youexpectations, you give your dollars away,she said.

Wyllard laughed. "You shouldn't deduceoo much from a single instance. Besideshat Pole's case hasn't cost me anythin

yet."

Mrs. Hastings joined them sooafterwards, and when Wyllard strolled

away they spent some time leaning on thrails, and looking at the groups oshadowy figures on the forward deckTheir attitude was dejected an



melancholy, but one cluster had gatheredround a man who stood upon the hatch.

"Yes," he said, "you'll have no troubleCanada's a great country for a poor manHe can sleep beneath a bush all summer, ihe can't strike anything he likes."

This did not appear particularlencouraging, but the orator went on. "Beeover for a trip to the Old Country, and I'

glad I'm going back again. Went out withnothing except a good discharge, and themade me sergeant of Canadian militiaAfter that armourer to a rifle club. There'

places a blame long way behind thDominion, and I struck one of them whewe went with Roberts to Afghanistan. Iwas on that trip I and a Pathan rolled al



down a hill, him trying to get his knife ar oose, and me jabbing his breastbone wit

my bayonet before I got it into him.

drove it through to the socket. You want tomake quite sure of a Pathan."

Miss Rawlinson winced at this. "Oh,

she said, "what a horrible man!"

"It was 'most as tough as when you wenafter Kiel, and stole the Scotchman's furs,

suggested a Canadian.

The sergeant let the jibe go by. "Oh," hsaid, "Louis's bucks could shoot! We had

hem corralled in a pit, and every time onof the boys from Montreal broke cover hgot a bullet into him. Did any of you evehear a dropped man squeal?"



Agatha had heard sufficient, and she anher companions turned away, but as themoved across the deck the sergeant'

voice followed her.

"Oh, yes," he said, "a grand country for poolman. In the summer he can sleep

beneath a bush."

For some reason this eulogy haunteAgatha when she retired to her room tha

night, and she wondered what awaited alhose aliens in the new land, until i

occurred to her that in some respects shwas situated very much as they were

Then, for the first time, vague misgivingcrept into her mind as she realised that shhad cut herself adrift from all that she habeen accustomed to. She felt suddenl



depressed and lonely.

The depression had, however, almos

vanished when, awakening rather earlnext morning, she went up on deck. A redsun hung over the tumbling seas that ranto the hazy east astern, and they rolle

up in crested phalanxes that gleamed greeand incandescent white ahead. ThScarrowmania plunged through them wita spray cloud flying about her dippin

bows. She was a small, old-fashioneboat, and—for she had some 3,000 tons orailway iron in the bottom of her—shrolled distressfully. Her tall spars swayedathwart the vivid blueness of the morninsky, with the rhythmic regularity of pendulum. The girl, however, wa

roubled by no sense of sickness; the kee



north-wester that sang amidst the shroudwas wonderfully fresh; and when she meWyllard crossing the saloon deck he

cheeks were glowing from the sting of thspray, and her eyes were bright.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Down there," said Wyllard, pointing tohe black opening in the fore-hatch that leo the steerage quarters. "An acquaintanc

of mine who's travelling forward askeme to take a look round, and I'm ratheglad I did. When I've had a word with thchief steward I'm going back again."

"You have a friend down there?"

"I met the man for the first tim



yesterday, and rather took to him. One oyour naval petty officers, forcibly retiredwho can't live upon his pension, which i

why he's going out to Canada. Now you'lexcuse me."

"I wonder," said Agatha, "if you would

et me go back with you?"

Wyllard looked at her rather curiously"Well," he said, with an air of reflection

"you'll probably have to face a good deahat you don't like out yonder, and in on

way you won't suffer from a littlpreparatory training. This, however, is no

a case where sentimental pity is likely trelieve anybody. It's the real thing."

"I think I told you at Garside Scar that



haven't lived altogether in luxury!"

Wyllard, who made no comment

disappeared, and merely signed to hewhen he came back. They reached thadder that led down into the gloo

beneath the hatch, and Agatha hesitate

when a sour and musty odour floated up ther, apparently out of the depths of thship. She went down, however, and a fewmoments later stood, half-nauseated

gazing at the wildest scene of confusioher eyes had ever rested on. A little lighcame down the hatchway, and a smokamp or two swung above her head, bu

half the steerage deck was wrapped ishadow, and out of it there rose a manyvoiced complaining. Flimsy, unplaned

fittings had wrenched away, and men la



nert amidst the wreckage, with thremains of their last meal scattered abouhem. There were unwashed tin plates an

pannikins, knives, and spoons, sliding uand down everywhere, and the deck wafoul with slops of tea, and trodden breadand marmalade. Now and then, in a wilde

roll than usual, a frowsy, huddled objecslid groaning down the slant of slimplanking, but in every case the helplespassenger was fully dressed. Steeragpassengers, in fact, seldom take off theiclothes. For one thing, all their worldlpossessions are, as a rule, secreted amon

heir attire, and for another, most of thoshailing from beyond the Danube havnever been accustomed to disrobing. In thmidst of the confusion, two half-sic

steward lads were making wholl



neffective efforts to straighten up thmess.

Then Agatha made out that a swarm ourchins were huddled together in helpless mass, along one side of thhorrible place. The sergeant wa

haranguing them, while another manwhom she supposed to be the petty officerpulled them to their feet one by one. Agood deal of his labour was wasted, fo

he Scarrowmania was rolling viciouslyand as soon as he had got a few uprighhalf of them collapsed again. Wyllardglanced towards them compassionately.

"I believe most of them have had nothino eat since they came on board, though isn't the company's fault," he said



"There's food enough served out, bubefore we picked the breeze up the meaid hands upon it first and half of it wa

wasted in the scramble. Then it seems thepitched these youngsters out of theiberths."

"Don't they belong to anybody?" Agathasked. "Is there no one to look aftehem?"

Wyllard smiled drily. "I believe one oyour charitable institutions is sending theout, and there seems to be a clergymanwho has a curate and a lay assistant t

help him, in charge. The assistant won't bavailable while this rolling lasts, and thother two very naturally prefer the saloonn a way, that's comprehensible."



He left her, and proceeded to help thman who was dragging the urchins to theifeet.

"Get up!" said the sergeant. "Get up, anfall in. Dress from the left, and numbeoff, the ones who can stand."

It appeared that the lads had beedrilled, for they scrambled into a line thabent and wavered each time th

Scarrowmania's bows went down. Aftehat, every other lad stepped forward ahe word; the order was, "Left turn

March, and fall in on deck," and whe

hey feebly clambered up the laddeWyllard, who turned to Agatha, pointed toa door in a bulkhead of rough white wood



"It should have been locked, but I fancyou can get in that way, and up througanother hatch," he said. "The singl

women, and women with children are iyonder, and if you want to be usefuhere's a field for you. Get as many a

possible up on deck."

Agatha left him, and her face was rathewhite when at last she came up into thopen air, with about a dozen forlorn

draggled women trailing helplessly afteher. The lads were now sitting down in double line on deck, each with a tin platand a steaming pannikin in front of himThere were, she fancied, at least hundred of them, and a man with bronzed face and the stamp of comman

upon him was giving them the order of th



voyage. He was the one she had alreadnoticed.

"You'll turn out at the whistle at halfpast six," he said. "Shake mattresses, rolup blankets, and prepare for bertnspection. Then, at the next whistle, you'l

fall in on deck stripped to the waist fowashing parade. Fourth files numberineven are orderlies in charge of the plateand pannikins."

"And," said the sergeant, "annsubordination will be sharply deal

with. Now, when I was with Roberts i

Afghanistan——"

Wyllard, who was standing close byurned to Agatha.



"I don't think we'll be wanted. You haveprobably earned your breakfast."

They went back to the saloon deck, anhe girl smiled when he looked at henquiringly.

"It was a little horrible, but I hadn't smany to deal with," she said. "Do you, anhose others expect to bring any order ou

of that chaos?"

"No," said Wyllard, "with a littlencouragement they'll do it themselves—hat is, the English, Danes, and Germans

One can trust them to evolve a workablsystem. It's in their nature. You can tracemost things that tend to wholesomefficiency back to the old Teutonic leaven



By and bye, they'll proceed to put sompressure on the Latins, Slavs, and Jews."

"But is it your business to offer them thaencouragement?"

Wyllard laughed. "Strictly speaking, i

sn't in the least, but unnecessary chaos irather hateful, and, any way, I'm not thonly one who doesn't seem to like itThere's the petty officer, and our friend

he sergeant, who was with Roberts iAfghanistan."

Agatha said nothing further. She was

ittle surprised to feel that she waanxious to keep this man's good opinionhough that was not exactly why she ha

nerved herself for the venture into th



single women's quarters. Leaving him oualtogether, it seemed to her that there wasomething rather fine in the way the pett

officer who was going out almospenniless to Canada, and the sergeant, hasaddled themselves with the task oooking after those helpless lads. It wa

wholly unpaid labour, for which the mewho preferred to remain within the safimits of the saloon deck woul

presumably get the credit. After all, shdecided there were, no doubt, men ievery station who helped to keep thworld sweet and clean, and she fancie

hat her companion was to be counteamong them. He certainly differed in manways from Gregory, but then Gregory waunapproachable. She did not remembe

hat it was four years since she had see



he latter, and that her ideas had been ittle unformed then.

During the evening, Mrs. Hastings, witwhom he was evidently a favouritehappened to speak of Wyllard, and thefforts he was making in the steerage, an

Agatha asked a question.

"Does he often undertake this kind ohing?"

"No," said Mrs. Hastings with a smile"Any way, not on so large a scale. He'very far from setting up as a professiona

philanthropist, my dear. I don't everemember him offering to point out theiduty to other folks, and I don't think hgoes about in search of an opportunity o



benefiting humanity. Still, as I suggestedwhen an individual case thrusts itselbeneath his nose, he generally—does wha

he can."

"I've heard people say that the individuamethod only perpetuates the trouble," sai

Agatha.

Her companion laughed. "That," shsaid, "is a subject I'm not well posted on

but it seems to me that if other folks onladopted Harry Wyllard's simple planhere would be considerably less need fo

organised charity."



CHAPTER IX.

THE FOG.During the next two days th

Scarrowmania shouldered her wa

westwards through the big, white-toppecombers that rolled down upon her undea lowering sky before a moderate galeThere were no luxurious, steam-propelle

hotels in the Canadian trade just then, andoaded deep with railway metal as sh

was, she slopped the green seas ieverywhere, and rolled her streaminsides out almost to her bilge. She alsshivered and rattled horribly when hesingle screw swung clear and the tri

compound engines ran away.



Wyllard went down to the steeragevery now and then, and Agatha, whocontrived to keep on her feet, no

nfrequently accompanied him. She waglad of his society, for Mrs. Hastings waseldom in evidence, and no efforts coulget Miss Rawlinson out of her berth. Th

gale, however, blew itself out at lengthand the evening after it moderated Agathwas sitting near the head of one fiddleguarded table in the saloon waiting fodinner, which the stewards had still somdifficulty in bringing in. Wyllard's placwas next to hers, but he had not appeare

yet, nor, as it happened, had the skipperwho, however, did not invariably dinwith the passengers. One of the two doorwhich led from the foot of the branchin

companion stairway into either side of th



saloon stood open, and presently she sawWyllard standing just outside it.

He beckoned to the doctor, who sat ahe foot of her table, and the latter merel

raised his brows a trifle. He was a ratheconsequential person, and it was eviden

o the girl that he resented beinsummoned by a gesture. She did not thinanybody else had noticed Wyllard, andshe waited with some curiosity to se

what he would do. He made a sign with ifted hand, and she felt that the othe

would obey it, as, in fact, he did, thoughis manner was very far from conciliatoryBy dint of listening closely, she could heaheir conversation.

"I'm sorry," said Wyllard, "to trouble



you just now, and I didn't come in becaushat would have set everybody wonderin

what you were wanted for; but one o

hose boys forward has been thrown dowhe ladder, and has cut his head."

"Ah!" said the doctor. "I'll see to him—

after dinner."

"It's a nasty cut," said Wyllard. "He'osing a good deal of blood."

"Then I would suggest that you apply tmy assistant."

"As I don't know where he is, I havcome to you."

The doctor made a sign of impatience

"Well," he said, "you have told me, which



think is as far as your concern in thmatter goes. I may add that I'm noaccustomed to dictation on behalf of

steerage passenger."

Agatha saw Wyllard quietly slipbetween him and the entrance to th

saloon, but she also saw, as neither of thothers apparently did, the skipper appeaa few paces behind them, and glance ahem sharply. He was usually a silent man

at home in the ice and the clammy fog, bunot a great acquisition in the saloon.

"Something wrong down forward, Mr

Wyllard? They were making a great row ittle while ago," he said.

"Nothing very serious," said Wyllard



"One of the boys, however, has cut hihead."

The skipper turned towards the doctoquietly; but Agatha fancied he hadoverheard part of the conversation.

"Don't you think you had better go—aonce?" he said.

The doctor evidently did, for h

disappeared, and Wyllard, who enteredhe saloon with the skipper, sat down a

Agatha's side.

"How do you do it?" she asked.

"What?" asked Wyllard, attacking hidinner.



"We'll say persuade other folks to seehings as you do."

"You evidently mean the skipper, and suppose you heard something of what wagoing on. In this case, as it happens, I'ndebted to his prejudices. He's one of th

old type—a seaman first of all—and whawe call bluff, and you call bounce, haonly one effect upon men of his kind. Igets their backs up."

Agatha fancied that he did not like iteither, but she changed the subject.

"There really was a row forward," shsaid. "What was the trouble over? Youwere, no doubt, somewhere near the scenof it."



Wyllard laughed. "I sat upon the steeragadder, and am afraid I cheered th

combatants on. It was really a gloriou

row. They hammered each other with tiplates, and some of them tried to ushoop-iron knives, which fortunateldoubled up. They broke quite a few of th

benches, and wrecked the mess table, buso far as I noticed the only one seriouslhurt was a little chap who was quietlooking on."

"And you encouraged them?"

"I certainly did. It was a protest agains

dirt, disorder, and the slothfulness that's plague to the community. Isn't physicaforce warranted when there's no otheremedy?"



A grey-haired Canadian looked up"Yes," he said, "I guess it is. The first manwho pulled his gun in British Columbi

was hanged right away, and they'vscarcely had to make an example oanother ever since, though it's quite while ago."

He paused, and smiled approvingly. "Amess of any kind worries us, and we donake long to straighten it out. Sam

feelings in the Germans anScandinavians. I'll say that for them, anway. Your friends swept up the steerage?

"They took the Slavs and Jews, anpitched them down the second hatch on the orlop deck. Things will go smoothl

now our crowd are on top."



"Your crowd?" said Agatha.

The Canadian nodded. "That's what h

meant," he said. "There are two kinds ofolks you and the rest of them are dumpinnto Canada. One's the kind that will ge

up and hustle, break land, and build new

homes—log at first, frame and stonafterwards. They go on from a quartersection and a team of oxen to the biggesfarm they can handle, and every fres

furrow they cut enriches all of us. Thother kind want to sit down in the dirt anake life easily, as they've always done

The dirt worries everybody else, anwe've no use for them. By and bye ouLegislature will have to wake up and stohem getting in."



He went on with his dinner after this, buhis observations left Agatha thoughtfulShe was, for one thing, beginning t

understand one side of her companion'character. He, it seemed, stood fopractical efficiency. There was a drivinforce in him that made for progress an

order. It was apparently his mission tostraighten things out. Some folks of hikind, she reflected, now and then made good deal of avoidable trouble; but therwas in this man, at least, a half-whimsicaoleration, which rendered that an unlikelhing in his particular case. Besides, sh

had already recognised that she was isome respects fortunate in having such man for her companion.

Her deck chair was always set out in th



most sheltered and comfortable place. Ihere was anything to be seen, a carg

boat plunging along forecastle under, or

great iron sailing ship thrashing out to thwestwards, with the spray clouds flyinabout her hove up weather side, he almosnvariably appeared with a pair o

powerful glasses. She was watched overher wishes anticipated, and the man waseldom obtrusively present when she feldisposed to talk to somebody else. Istruck her that she had thought a good deaabout him during the last few days, anrather less than usual about Gregory

which was partly why she did not walk uand down the deck with him, as usuaafter dinner that evening.

Three or four days later th



Scarrowmania ran into the Bank fog, anburrowed through it with whistle hootindolefully at regular intervals. Now an

hen an answering ringing of bells camout of the clammy vapour, and the halfseen shape of an anchored schooneoomed up, rolling wildly on grey slope

of sea. Once, too, a tiny dory, half filledwith lines and buoys, slid by plunging ohe wash flung off by the Scarrowmania

bows, and Agatha understood that the men her had escaped death by

hairsbreadth. They were cod fishersWyllard told her, and he added that there

was a host of them at work somewhere ihe sliding haze. She, however, fanciednow and then, that the fog had depressing effect on him, and that whe

he dory lay beneath the rail there ha



been a somewhat unusual look in his face

Then a breeze came out of the north

west, with the sting of the ice in it, but thfog did not lift, and the Scarrowmani

plunged on through it with spray-wedecks and the grey seas smashing abou

her bows. It was bitterly cold anclammy, the raw wind pierced to the bonebut the voyage was, at least, rapidlshortening, and one evening Agatha paced

he deck with Wyllard in a somewhacurious mood. Perhaps it was merely thgloom re-acting upon her, for she waooking forward to the landing with

certain half-conscious shrinking.

They stopped by the rails presentlyooking out upon the tumbling seas tha



rolled out of the sliding haze tipped witivid froth, and the dreariness of th

surroundings intensified the girl'

depression. There was somethinunpleasantly suggestive in the sight of thfog that hid everything, for she had of latbeen troubled with a half-apprehensiv

onging to see what lay before her. In thmeanwhile, she noticed the look-oustanding, a lonely, shapeless figureamidst the spray that whirled about thplunging bows. By and bye she saw hiurn and wave an arm apparently towardhe bridge behind her, and she heard

hoarse, wind-out cry. What it meant shcould not tell, but in another moment thScarrowmania's whistle shrieked again.

Then a grey shape burst out of th



vapour, and grew with astonishinswiftness into dim tiers of slantesailcloth swaying above a strip of hull tha

moved amidst a broad white smear ofoam. It was a brig under fore-course anopsails, and as Agatha watched her sh

sank to her tilted bowsprit, and a big gre

and white sea foamed about her bows.

"Aren't we dreadfully near?" she asked.

Wyllard did not answer. He was gazingup at the bridge, and once more thwhistle hurled out a great warning blast. Ihardly seemed to her that the two vessel

could pass clear of each other. ThenWyllard laid a hand upon her shoulder.

"The skipper's starboarding. We'll go



round her stern," he said.

His grasp was reassuring, and sh

watched the straining curves of canvaand line of half-submerged hull. It roswith streaming bows, swung high abovhe sea, sank again, and vanished wit

bewildering suddenness into a belt odriving fog. She was not sure that therhad been any peril, but it was certainlover now, and she was rather puzzled b

her sensations when Wyllard had held heshoulder. For one thing, she had felnstinctively that she was safe with him

She, however, decided not to troublherself about the reason for this, and band bye she looked up at him. Thexpression she had already noticed wa

once more in his face.



"I don't think you like the fog any morhan I do," she said.

"No," said Wyllard, with a quieforcefulness that almost startled her. "hate it."

"Why do you go as far as that?"

"It recalls something that still gives me very bad few minutes every now and then

t has been worrying me again to-night."

"I wonder," said Agatha simply, "if youwould care to tell me?"

The man looked down on her with ittle wry smile. "I haven't told it often, bu

you shall hear," he said. "It's a tale of

black failure." He stretched out a hand an



pointed to the sliding fog and ranks oumbling seas. "It was very much this kin

of night, and we were lying, reefed down

off one of the Russians' beaches, when asked for volunteers. I got them—twboats' crews of the finest seamen that evehandled oar or sealing rifle."

"But what did you want them for?"

"A boat from another schooner had been

cast ashore. It was blowing tolerablhard, as it usually does where the Polace comes down into the Behring Sea

They'd been shooting seals from her. We

meant to bring the men off if we coulmanage it."

"Wouldn't one boat have been enough?"



"No," said Wyllard drily, "we had threeand I think that was one cause of throuble. There was one from the othe

schooner. You see, those seals belongedo the Russians, and we free-lances coul

only shoot them clear off shore. I'm nosure that the men in the wrecked boat ha

been fishing outside the limit."

Agatha did not press for furtheparticulars, and he went on:

"We managed to make a landing, thoughone boat went up bottom uppermost," hsaid. "I fancy they must have broken o

ost an oar then. We also got the wreckedmen, but we had trouble while we wergetting the boats off again. The surf warunning in savagely, and the fog shut down



solid as a wall. Any way, we pulled offand went out with a foot of water in uswhile one of the rescued men took my oa

when I let it go."

"Why had you to let it go?"

Wyllard laughed in a rather grifashion.

"I got my head laid open with a sealin

club," he said. "Some of the rest had theiscratches, but they managed to row. Foone thing, they knew they had to. They hareasons for not wanting to fall into th

Russians' hands. Well, we cleared thebeach, and once or twice as I tried to balhere was a shout somewhere near us, anhe loom of a vanishing boat. It was all w



could make out, for the sea was sloppinnto her, and the spray was flyin

everywhere. If there had only been tw

boats we'd probably have found out oumisfortune, and perhaps have set istraight. As it was, we couldn't tell it wahe same boat that had hailed us."

He broke off for a moment, and theadded quietly, "Two boats reached theschooners. There was a nasty sea runnin

hen, and it blew viciously hard next dayThere were three men in the other."

"Ah," said Agatha, "they wer

drowned?"

Wyllard made a little forceful gesture"I'm not quite sure. That's the trouble. A



east, the boat was nowhere on the beacnext day, and it's difficult to see how thecould have faced the sea that piled up

when the gale came down. In alprobability, they had an oar short, and shrolled them out when a comber brokupon her in the darkness." The girl saw

him close one hand tight as he added, "Ione only knew!"

"What would have befallen them i

hey'd got ashore?"

"It's difficult to say. In a general wayhey'd have been handed over to th

Russian authorities. Still, sealers poachinup there have simply disappeared."

He stopped again, and glanced out at th



gathering darkness. "Now," he added"you see why I hate the fog."

"But you couldn't help it," said Agatha.

"Well," said Wyllard, "I asked fovolunteers, and the money that's now min

came out of those schooners. It's juspossible those men are living still—somewhere in Northern Asia. I only knowhey disappeared."

Then he abruptly commenced to talk osomething else, and by and bye Agathwent down to the saloon, where Mis

Rawlinson, who had not been much ievidence during the voyage, presentlmade her appearance.



"Aren't you going into the music-room tplay for Mr. Wyllard—as usual?" shesaid.

Agatha was almost disconcerted. Shhad fallen into the habit of spending halan hour or longer in the little music-roo

every evening, with Wyllard standing neahe piano; but now her companion'

question seemed to place a significancupon the fact.

"No," she said, "I don't think I am."

"Then the rest of them will wonder i

you have fallen out with him."

"Fallen out with him?"

Winifred laughed. "They've naturall



been watching both of you, and, in general way, there's only one decisiohey could have arrived at."

Agatha flushed a little, but hecompanion went on:

"I don't mind admitting that if a man ohat kind was to fall in love with me, I'

black his boots for him," she said. Theshe added, with a whimsically ruefu

gesture, "Still, it's most unlikely."

Agatha looked at her with a little glint iher eyes.

"He is merely Gregory's deputy," shsaid, with a sub-conscious feeling that thepithet was not a remarkably fortunat



one. "In that connection, I should like tpoint out that you can estimate a man'character by that of his friends."

"Oh," said Winifred, "then if MrWyllard's strong points are merely toheighten Gregory's credit, I've nothin

more to say. Anyway, I'll reserve myhomage until I've seen him. Perfectioamong men is scarce nowadays."

She turned away, and left Agathahoughtful. In the meanwhile, Mrs

Hastings came upon Wyllard in the musicroom. There was just then nobody else i

t.

"You look quite serious," she said.



"I've been thinking about Miss Ismay anGregory," said Wyllard. "In fact, I feel aittle anxious about them."

"In which way?"

"Without making any reflections upo

Gregory, I somehow feel sorry for thgirl."

Mrs. Hastings nodded. "As a matter o

fact, that's very much what I felt from thfirst," she said. "Still, you see, there's thmportant fact that she's fond of him, and i

should smooth out a good man

difficulties. Anyway, what we can call thematerial ones won't count. She's evidentlrather a courageous person."



The man sat silent a moment or two. "wasn't troubling about them," he said. "was wondering if she really could be fon

of him. It's some years since she was mucn his company."

"Hawtrey is not a man to change."

"That," said Wyllard, "is just the trouble've no doubt he's much the same, but on

could fancy that Miss Ismay has changed

good deal since she last saw him. She'look for considerably more than she wa

probably content with then."

"In any case, it isn't your affair."

"In one sense it certainly isn't; but I canhelp feeling a little troubled about th



hing. You see, Gregory is quite an oldfriend."

"And the girl is going out to marry him,said Mrs. Hastings.

Wyllard rose. "That," he said, "is quit

uncalled for. I would like to assure you ot."

He went out, and the lady sat still in

reflective mood.

"If she begins to compare him witHawtrey, there can be only one result,

she said.

The fog had almost gone next morningand pale sunshine streamed down upon

froth-flecked sea. A bitter wind, however



still came out of the hazy north, and thScarrowmania's plates were crusted witce where the highest crests of th

umbling seas reached them. The spraalso froze, and the decks grew slipperyuntil when darkness came nobody but thseamen faced the stinging cold. Agatha fel

he engines stop late that night, and wheshe went out next morning the decks werwhite, and she could see dim ghosts osliding pines through a haze of fallinsnow. It grew bewilderingly thick aimes, but the steamer slid on through i

with whistle hooting, and when at las

owards sunset the snow cleared awaAgatha stood shivering under a deckhouse, looking about her with a curiouslheavy heart.



A grey haze stretched across the greariver, which was also dim and grey, andodd wisps of pines rose raggedly beneat

he white hills that cut against a gloomyowering sky. Deck-house, boat, and

stanchion dripped, and every now anhen the silence was broken by a dolefu

blast of the whistle. Nothing moved on thstill, grey water; there was no sign of lifashore; and they seemed to be steaminnto a great desolation.

By and bye, Wyllard appeared frosomewhere, and after a glance at her facslipped his hand beneath her arm, and leher down to the lighted saloon. Then heheart grew a little lighter. Once more shwas conscious of an unreasoning feelin

hat she was safe with him.



CHAPTER X.

DISILLUSION.

The long train was speeding smoothlacross the vast white levels of Assiniboia

when Agatha, who sat by a windowooked up as the conductor strode throughe car. Mrs. Hastings asked him

question, and he stopped a moment.

"Yes," he said, "we'll be in Clermonnside half an hour."



Then he went on, and Mrs. Hastingsmiled at Agatha.

"We're a little late, and Gregory will bewaiting for us in the depôt now," she said"No doubt he's got the waggon fixed upright, but I'd like to feel sure of it. There'

a long drive before us, and I want to reache homestead before it's dark."

Agatha said nothing, but a faint tinge o

colour crept into her cheeks, and hecompanion was glad to see it, for she hanoticed that the girl was looking rathepale and haggard. This was partly due t

he fact that the strain of the last fewmonths she had spent in England wacommencing to tell on her. She had bornt courageously, but a reaction had



afterwards set in, and, as it happened, thScarrowmania had plunged along bowunder against fresh north-westerly gale

most of the way across the Atlantic. Thers very little comfort on board a small

deeply-loaded steamer when she rolls herails in, and lurches with thudding screw

swung clear over big, steep-sidecombers. In addition to this, Agatha hadscarcely slept during the few days annights she had spent in the train. It takesome time to become accustomed to thatmosphere of a stove-heated sleeper carand since she had landed she had been in

state of not altogether unnatural nervouension.

Indeed, she had found it a little difficul

o preserve an outward serenity th



previous day, and when at length the grearain ran into the depôt at Winnipeg

where Gregory had arranged to meet them

t was with a thrill of expectancy anrelief that she stood upon the car platformThere was, however, no sign of him, andhough Wyllard handed her a telegra

from him a few minutes later the fact thahe had not arrived had a depressing effecon her. Quiet as she usually was, the girwas highly strung. It appeared thasomething had gone wrong with Hawtrey'waggon while he was driving in to thrailroad, and as the result of it he ha

missed the Atlantic train. She could noblame him for this, but for all that hiabsence had been an unpleasant shock.

Feeling that her companion's eyes wer



upon her, she turned, and looking out ohe window found no encouragement i

what she saw. The snow had gone, and

vast expanse of grass ran back to thhorizon; but it was a dingy, greyish-whiteand not green as it had been in EnglandThe sky was low and grey, too, and th

only thing that broke the dreary monotonof lifeless colour was when the formlessdarker smear of a birch bluff rose out ohe empty levels. Her heart throbbe

unpleasantly fast as the few remaininminutes slipped away, and at length shstarted when a dingy mass of somethin

hat looked like buildings lifted itselabove the prairie.

"The Clermont elevators," said Mrs

Hastings. "We'll be in directly."



The mass separated itself into two ohree tall component blocks. A huddle oittle wooden houses grew into shap

beneath them, and a shrill whistle camringing back above the slowing cars. Thea willow bluff, half filled with old canand garbage, flitted by, a big bel

commenced tolling, and Agatha rose wheMrs. Hastings took up her furs from a seaclose by. After that, she found herselstanding on the platform of the car, thougshe did not quite know how she got therefor she was sensible only of the fact that ianother moment or two she would gree

he lover she had last seen four years ago.

In the meanwhile, though she paid theno great attention, the surroundings had

depressing effect on her. There was



however, very little to see; the mass of thgreat elevators that cut against a lowerinsky, the little cluster of houses, and the se

of churned-up mire between them and thrack. There also appeared to be no statio

except a big water tank and a ratheunsightly shed, about which stood a grou

of blurred and shapeless figures. Iseemed very cold, and Agatha shivered ashe felt the raw wind strike through her.

Then one of the figures detached itselfrom the rest and grew clearer. The mawore an old skin coat spattered witflakes of mire, and his long boots wercovered with clots of the same materiaHis fur cap looked greasy, and the fur hadbeen rubbed off it in patches; but whil

she noticed these things it was his fac



hat struck her most, and she becamconscious of an astonishment which wamixed with vague misgivings as she gaze

at it, for it had subtly changed since shhad last seen it. The joyous sparkle shremembered had gone out of the eyesThey were harder, bolder, than they used

o be. The mouth was slack—it almosooked sensual—and the man's whol

personality seemed to have growcoarser. Then as she thrust thdisconcerting fancies from her the castopped.

In another moment Hawtrey sprang up ohe platform, and she felt his arms abou

her. That brought the blood to her face, bushe felt none of the thrill she had expected

ndeed, she was subconsciously sensibl



of a certain shrinking from his embraceThen, and she fancied he must have lifteher bodily down, she stood beside th

rack with Mrs. Hastings, a man whom shsupposed to be the latter's husbandWinifred, and Wyllard about her. Anotherman was also standing close by

apparently waiting until they noticed himHe was flecked with mire all over, hiskin coat was very dilapidated, anAgatha fancied that his boots had nevebeen cleaned. His hair, which hadevidently been very badly cut, straggleout from under his old fur cap.



"In another moment Hawtrey sprang up

on the platform, and she felt his arms

about her."

In the meanwhile, Gregory waapparently explaining something to MrsHastings. "No," he said, "I'm sorry it can

be for another week. Horribly unfortunatet seems they've sent the Methodist o

down the line, and we'll have to wait fohe Episcopalian. He'll be at Lander's fo

a few days."

Then Agatha's cheeks flamed, for shrecognised that it was her wedding thewere speaking of; but it brought her curious relief to hear that it had beedeferred. A moment or two later Gregory

urned to her with questions about he



hroat, and his people in England, anWinifred separated herself from the groupShe was standing near her baggage, whic

had been flung out beside the track, ittle, lonely figure, while the train wen

on, when Wyllard strode up to her.

"Feeling rather out of it? I do, any way,he said. "Since we appear superfluous, wmay as well make the most of thopportunity, especially as it will probabl

save you a long drive. There's a man herwho wants to see you."

Winifred had felt very forlorn a few

moments earlier, but the announcemenWyllard had just made was reassuringand she pulled herself together as hsigned to a man standing a little furthe



along the track. The latter wore rather neastore clothes, and his manner was brisand wholly business-like. It was a certai

relief to the girl to see that he evidentlregarded her less as a personality than aa piece of commercial machinery, whiche had apparently been asked to make us

of. She had found it easier to get on witmen who confined themselves to that poinof view.

"Mr. Hamilton, in charge of the elevatoyonder," said Wyllard, pointing to one ohe huge buildings. "This is Mis

Rawlinson."

The elevator man made her the curtest onclinations, and proceeded to arrang

matters with a rapidity which almost too



her breath away.

"Typist and stenographer?" he said

"Know anything about account-keeping?"

Winifred admitted that she possessedhese abilities, and Hamilton appeared t

reflect for a moment or two.

"Well," he said, "in a fortnight we'll givyou a show. You can start at—" and he

mentioned terms which rather astonisheWinifred. "If you can keep things straighwe may raise you later."

"Won't you want to see anyestimonials?" she asked.

"No," said Hamilton. "I've seen a goo

many, and I'm inclined to fancy some o



he folks who showed them me must havbought them." He waved his hand. "MrWyllard assures me that you'll do, and in

he meanwhile that's quite enough for me."

It struck Winifred as curious that, whilAgatha had written to Hawtrey on he

behalf, it was Wyllard who had securedher the opportunity she had longed for; bushe thanked the elevator man before shurned to him.

"There's another matter," she saidhesitatingly. "I'll have to live here?"

Wyllard smiled. "I've seen to thathough if you don't like my arrangement

you can alter them afterwards. MrsSandberg will take you in, and even if sh



sn't particularly amiable you'll be in safhands."

Hamilton laughed. "Oh, yes," he said"She's Scotch—old type Calvinist at that

o frivolity about that woman. Married Scandinavian, and was just breaking hi

n when he was killed back East along thrack."

"We'll consider it as fixed, but in the

meanwhile you're to stay with MrsHastings for the fortnight," said Wyllard"Sproatly"—and he signed to the man ihe skin coat—"will you get Mis

Rawlinson's baggage into your waggon?"

The man took off his fur cap. "If MisRawlinson would like to see Mrs



Sandberg, I'll drive her round," hsuggested. "We'll catch you up in a leagueor so. Gregory has a bit of patching to d

on his off-side trace."

"He might have had things straight foonce," said Wyllard half-aloud.

Winifred permitted Sproatly to help hento his waggon—a high, narrow-bodie

vehicle, mounted on tall, spidery wheels

but she had to hold fast to it while theolted across the track and through a sea o

mire into the unpaved street of the littlown. She liked her companion's voic

and manner, though she was far froprepossessed by his appearance. Two ohree minutes later he drew up before ittle wooden house, where they wer



received by a tall, hard-faced womanwho frowned at Sproatly.

"Ye'll tak' your patent medicinesomewhere else. I'm wanting none," shsaid.

Sproatly grinned. "You needn't be afraidof them. They couldn't hurt you. I waalking to a Winnipeg doctor who'd

notion of coming out a day or two ago.

old him if he did he'd have to bring an axalong."

Then he explained that Wyllard had sen

Winifred there, and the woman favouredher with a glance of careful scrutiny.

"Weel," she said, "ye look quiet



anyway." Then she added, as thougfurther satisfied, "I'll make ye a cup of tef ye can wait."

Sproatly assured her that this was not thcase, and in a few more minutes the girlwho went into the house, got into th

waggon again, with relief in her face.

"I think I owe Mr. Wyllard a good deal,she said.

Sproatly laughed. "You're not exactlysingular in that respect, but you had bettehold tight. These beasts are rather les

han half broken."

He flicked them with the whip, and thewent across the track at a gallop, hurlin



great clods of mud left and right, while thgroup of loungers who still stood abouhe station raised a shout.

"Got any little pictures with nice motteron them?" asked one, and another flung piece of information after the joltin

waggon.

"There's a Swede down at Branker'wants a bottle that will supple up

wooden leg," he said.

Sproatly grinned, and waved his hand them before he turned to his companion.

"We have to get through before dark, ipossible, or I'd stop and sell thesomething sure," he said. "Parts of the trai



further on are simply horrible."

It occurred to Winifred that it was fa

from excellent as it was, for spouts of muflew up beneath the sinking hoofs anwheels, and she was already gettinunpleasantly spattered.

"You think you would have succeeded?she asked.

"Oh, yes," said Sproatly. "If I couldnplant something on to them when they'given me a lead like that, I'd be no use ihis business. At present, my command o

Western phraseology is my fortune."

"You sell things, then?"

Sproatly pointed to a couple of bi



boxes in the bottom of the waggon"Anything from cough cure to hairestorer, besides a general purpose elixi

hat's specially prepared for me. It'adaptable to any complaint and seasonAll you have to do"—and he lowered hivoice confidentially—"is to put on

different label."

Winifred, who had not felt like it a littlearlier, laughed when she met his eyes.

"What happens to the people who but?" she asked.

"Most of them are bachelors, and toughThey've stood their own cooking so lonhat they ought to be, and if anybody'

really sick I hold off and tell him to wai



until he can get a doctor. A sensitiveconscience," he added reflectively, "iquite a handicap in this business."

"You have always been in it?" askedWinifred, who was amused at him.

"No," said Sproatly, "although yomightn't believe it, I was raised with thdea that I should have my choice betweehe Church and the Bar. The idea

however, proved—impracticable—which, in some respects, is rather a pity. Ihas seemed to me that a man who cawork off cough cures and cosmetics on t

healthy folks with a hide like leather, andalk a scoffer off the field, ought to hav

made his mark in either calling."



He looked at her as if for confirmatioof this view, but Winifred, who laughedagain, glanced at the two waggons tha

moved on, perhaps, two miles awaacross the grey-white sweep of prairie.

"Will we overtake them?" she asked.

"We'll probably come up with Gregory'm not sure about Wyllard."

"He drives faster horses?"

"That's not quite the reason. Gregory hapatched up one trace with a bit of string

and odd bolts are rather addicted tcoming out of his waggon. Sometimes imakes trouble. I've known the team leavhim sitting on the prairie, thinking o



endearing names for them, and come homwith the pole."

"Does he generally let things fall inthat state?"

Sproatly, however, was evidently on hi

guard.

"Well," he said, "it's certainly that kindof waggon."

Then he flicked the team again, and tholting rendered it difficult for Winifred to

ask any more questions. The prairie so

was soft with the thaw, and big lumps of istuck to the wheels, which every now anhen plunged into ruts other vehicles ha

made.



In the meanwhile, Agatha and Hawtrefound it almost as impossible to sustain conversation, which was, on the whole,

relief to the girl. The string-patched tracstill held, and the waggon pole was a newone, but where they were just then thwhite grass was tussocky and long, an

he trail they occasionally plunged into tavoid it had been churned into a quagmireHawtrey had packed the thick driving robhigh about his companion, and slipped onarm about her waist beneath it; but shwas conscious that she rather suffered thihan derived any satisfaction from it. Sh

strove to assure herself that she was jadewith the journey, which was, in fact, thcase, and that the lowering sky, and thcheerless waste they were crossing, ha

occasioned the dejection she felt, whic



was also possible. There was not a treupon the vast sweep of bleached graswhich ran all round her to the horizon. I

was inexpressibly lonely, a lifelesdesolation, with only the ploughed-up traio show that man had ever traversed it

and the raw wind which swept it set he

shivering.

She was, however, forced to admit thaher weariness and the dreary surrounding

did not quite explain everything. Even heover's first embrace had brought her nhrill, and now the close pressure of hi

arm left her quite unmoved. This waalmost disconcertingly curious; but whilshe would admit no definite reason for ithere was creeping upon her a vagu

consciousness that the man was not th



one she had so often thought of in EnglandHe seemed different—almost, in fact, stranger—though she could not exactly tel

where the change in him began. Hiaughter jarred upon her. Some of thhings he said appeared almost inane, an

others were tinged with a self-confidenc

hat did not become him. It almost seemeo her that he was shallow, lacking in

comprehension, and once she founherself comparing him with another manShe, however, broke off that train ohought abruptly, and once mor

endeavoured to find the explanation i

herself. Weariness had induced thicaptious, hypercritical fit, and by and byshe would become used to him, she said.

Hawtrey was, at least, not effusive, fo



which she was thankful, but when thereached a somewhat smoother surface hcommenced to talk of England.

"I suppose you saw a good deal of mfolks when you were at the Grange?" hsaid.

"No," said Agatha, "I saw them once owice."

"Ah!" said the man, with a trace osharpness, "then they were not particularlagreeable?"

It seemed to Agatha that he was tactlesn suggesting anything of the kind, but sh

answered candidly.

"One could hardly go quite so far a



hat," she said. "Still, I couldn't help feeling that it was rather an effort for theo be gracious to me."

"They did what they could to makhings pleasant when they were first tol

of our engagement."

Agatha was too worn-out to baltogether on her guard, which was partlwhy she had admitted as much as she ha

done, though his relatives' attitude hawounded her, and she answered withoureflection.

"I have fancied that was because thenever quite believed it would lead tanything."



She knew this was the truth now, thought was the first time the explanation ha

occurred to her. Gregory's folks, who

were naturally acquainted with hicharacter, had, it seemed, not expectedhim to carry his promise out. Shehowever, felt that she had bee

njudicious when she heard his little harsaugh.

"I'm afraid they never had a very grea

opinion of me," he said.

"Then," said Agatha, looking up at him"it will be our business to prove the

wrong; but I can't help feeling that yohave undertaken a big responsibilityGregory. There must be so much that ought to do, and I know so little abou



your work in this country." She turned, anglanced with a shiver at the dim, whitprairie. "It looks so forbidding an

unyielding. It must be very hard to turn into wheat fields—to break it in."

It was merely a hint of what she felt, an

t was rather a pity that Hawtrey, whoacked imagination, usually contente

himself with the most obvious meaning ohe spoken word. Things might have gon

differently had he responded witcomprehending sympathy.

"Oh," he said, with a laugh that change

her mood, "you'll learn, and I donsuppose it will matter a great deal if yodon't do it quickly. Somehow or other onworries through."



She felt that this was insufficient, thougshe remembered that his haphazarcarelessness had once appealed to her

ow, however, she realised that toundertake a thing light-heartedly was very different matter from carrying it ousuccessfully. Then it once more occurred

o her that she was becoming absurdlhypercritical, and she strove to talk oother things.

She did not find it easy, nor, though hemade the effort, did Hawtrey. There was restraint that he chafed at upon him, for hhad when he first saw her been struck bhe change in the girl. She was graver tha

he remembered her, and, it seemed, vermuch more reserved. He had tried an

failed, as he thought of it, to strike a spar



out of her. She did not respond, and hbecame uneasily conscious that he coulnot talk to her as he could, for instance, t

Sally Creighton. There was somethinwanting in him or her, but he could not ahe moment tell what it was. Still, he saidhings would be different next day, for th

girl was evidently very weary.

In the meanwhile, the creeping dussettled down upon the wilderness. Th

horizon narrowed in, and the stretch ograss before them grew dim. The trail thenow drove into seemed to grow rapidlrougher, and it was quite dark when thecame to the brink of a declivity still aeast a league from the Hastings'

homestead. It was one of the steep ravine

hat seam the prairie every here and there



with a birch bluff on the sides of it, and ittle creek flowing through the hollow.

Hawtrey swung the whip when thereached the top, and the team plungefuriously down the slope. He straightenehimself in his seat with both hands on th

reins, and Agatha held her breath whenshe felt the light vehicle tilt as the wheelon one side sank deep in a rut. Thesomething seemed to crack, and she saw

he off-side horse stumble and plunge. Thother beast flung its head up, Hawtreshouted something, and there was a greasmashing and snapping of undergrowtand fallen branches as they drove iamong the birches. Then the team stoppedand Hawtrey, who sprang down

floundered noisily among th



undergrowth, while another thud of hoofand rattle of wheels grew louder behinhem up the trail. In a minute or two h

came back and lifted Agatha down.



"Then something seemed to crack, and

she saw the off-side horse stumble and

plunge."

"It's the trace broken. I had to make thholes with my knife, and the string's torhrough," he said. "Voltigeur got it round

his feet, and, as usual, tried to boltAnyway, we'll make the others pull up andake you in."

They went back to the trail together, andreached it just as Hastings reined in hieam. He got down and walked back wit

Hawtrey to the latter's waggon. It was minute or two before they reappeareagain, and Mrs. Hastings, who had godown in the meanwhile, drew Hawtre

aside.



"I almost think it would be better if yodidn't come any further to-night," she said

"Why?" the man asked sharply.

"I can't help thinking that Agatha wouldprefer it. For one thing, she's rather jaded

and wants quietness."

"You feel sure of that?"

There was something in the man's voicwhich suggested that he was not quitsatisfied, and his companion was silent moment.

"It's good advice, Gregory," she said"She'll be better able to face the situatioafter a night's rest."



"Does it require much facing?" Hawtreasked drily.

Mrs. Hastings turned from him with sign of impatience. "Of course it doesAnyway, if you're wise you'll do what suggest, and ask no more questions."

Then she got into the waggon, anHawtrey stood still beside the traifeeling unusually thoughtful when the

drove away.

CHAPTER XI.



AGATHA'S DECISION.

It was with an expectancy which waslightly toned down by misgivings thaHawtrey drove over to the homesteawhere Agatha was staying the nex

afternoon. The misgivings were, perhapsnot unnatural, for he had been chilled bhe girl's reception of him on the previou

day, and her manner afterwards had, h

felt, left something to be desired. Indeedwhen she drove away with Mrs. Hastinghe had felt himself a somewhat injureman.

His efforts to mend the harness, anextricate the waggon in the dark, whicoccupied him for an hour, had, however

partly helped to drive the matter from hi



mind, and when he reached his homestearather late that night he went to sleep, anslept soundly until sunrise, which wa

significant. Hawtrey was, at least, a mawho never brooded over his troublebeforehand, and this was, perhaps, onreason why he did not always cope wit

hem successfully when they could nonger be avoided.

When he had made his breakfast he

however, became sensible of a certaipique against both Mrs. Hastings and thgirl, which led him to remember that hhad no hired man, and that there was good deal to be done. He decided that imight be well to wait until the afternoobefore he called on them, and for severa

hours he drove his team through th



crackling stubble. His doubts anrritation grew weaker as he did so, an

when at length he drove into sight o

Hastings's homestead, his buoyanemperament was commencing to reassertself. Clear sunshine streamed down upohe prairie out of a vault of cloudless blue

and he felt that after all any faint shadowhat might have arisen between him anhe girl could be readily swept away.

He was, however, a little less sure ohis when he saw her. Agatha sat near an

open window, in a scantily furnishedmatch-boarded room, and she, at least, at happened, had not slept at all. Her eye

were heavy, but there was a look oresolution in them which seemed out o

place just then, and it struck him that sh



had lost the freshness which hacharacterised her in England.

She rose when he came in, and then, this astonishment, drew back a pace or twwhen he moved impulsively towards her.

"No," she said, with a hand raiserestrainingly, "you must hear what I havo say, and try to bear with me. It is a littl

difficult, Gregory, but it must be said a

once."

The man stood still, almost awkwardlyooking at her with consternation in hi

face, and for a moment she looked steadilat him. It was a painful moment, for shwas just then gifted with a clearness ovision which she almost longed to b



delivered from. She saw that thmpression which had brought her a vagu

sense of dismay on the previous afternoo

was wrong. The trouble was that he hanot changed at all. He was what he haalways been, and she had merely deceiveherself when she had permitted her girlis

fancy to endue him with qualities angraces which he had, it seemed, nevepossessed. There was, however, no doubhat she had still a duty towards him.

He spoke first with a trace of hardnesn his voice.

"Then," he said, "won't you sit downThis is naturally a little—embarrassing—but I'll try to listen."



Agatha sank into a seat by the opewindow, for she felt physically worn-outand there was a task she shrank fro

before her.

"Gregory," she said, "I feel that we havcome near making what might prove to b

a horrible mistake."

"We?" said Hawtrey, while the bloodrose into his weather-darkened face. "Tha

means both of us."

"Yes," said Agatha, with a quietness thacost her an effort.

Hawtrey spread his hands out forcibly"Do you want me to admit that I've madone?"



"Are you quite sure you haven't?"

She flung the question at him sharply i

ense apprehension, for, after all, if thman was sure of himself, there was onlone course open to her. He leaned upohe table, gazing at her, and as he did so

his indignation melted, and doubtcommenced to creep into his mind.

She looked weary, and grave, and

almost haggard, and it was a fresh, lighthearted girl he had fallen in love with iEngland. The mark of the last two years ostruggle was just then plain on her, though

while he did not recognise this, it woulpass away again. He tried to realise whahe had looked for when he had asked heo marry him, and could not do so clearly



but there was in the back of his mind half-formulated notion that it had been cheerful companion, somebody to amus

him. She scarcely seemed likely to do thatter now. He was, however, not one ohe men who can face a crisis collectedly

and his thoughts became confused, unti

one idea emerged from them. He hapledged himself to her, and the fact laid certain obligation upon him. It was hipart to over-rule any fancies she might bdisposed to indulge in.

"Well," he said stoutly, "I'm not going toadmit anything of that kind. The journehas been too much for you. You haven'got over it yet." He lowered his voice, anhis face softened. "Aggy, dear, I've waited

four years for you."



That stirred her, for it was certainly trueand his gentleness had also its effect. Thsituation was becoming more and mor

difficult, for it seemed impossible to makhim understand that he would in alprobability speedily tire of her. She nowrecognised that, but to make it clear tha

she could never be satisfied with him waa thing she shrank from.

"How have you passed those fou

years?" she asked, to gain time.

For a moment his conscience smote himHe remembered the trips to Winnipeg, and

he dances to which he had attended SallCreighton. It was, however, evident thaAgatha could have heard nothing of Sally.



"I spent them in hard work. I wanted tmake the place more comfortable for you,he said. "It is true"—and he added thi

with a twinge of uneasiness, as hremembered that his neighbours had donmuch more with less incentive—"that it'still very far from what I would like, bu

hings have been against me."

The speech had a far stronger effect thahe could have expected, for Agath

remembered Wyllard's description owhat the prairie farmer had to face. Thosfour years of determined effort and patienendurance, which was how she picturehem, counted heavily against her in th

man's favour. It flashed upon her that, afteall, there might have been some warran

for the view she had held of Gregory'



character when he had fallen in love wither. He was younger then, there must havbeen latent possibilities in him, but th

years of toil had killed them and hardenehim. It was for her sake he had made thstruggle, and now it seemed unthinkablhat she should renounce him because h

came to her with the dust and stain of iupon him. For all that, she was possessewith a curious, sub-conscious feeling thashe would involve them both in disaster ishe yielded. Something warned her thashe must stand fast.

"Gregory," she said, "I seem to knowhat we should both be sorry afterwards ikept my promise."

Hawtrey straightened himself with



smile she recognised. She had liked hifor it once, for it had then suggested thoyous courage of untainted youth. Now

however, it struck her as only hinting aempty, complacent assurance. She hatedherself for the fancy, but it would not bdriven away.

"Well," he said, "I'm quite willing toface that hazard. I suppose this diffidencs only natural, Aggy, but it's a little hard

on me."

"No," said the girl sharply, with strained look in her eyes, "it's horribl

unnatural, and that's why I'm afraid. should have come to you gladly, without misgiving, feeling that nothing could hurme if I was with you. I wanted to do that



Gregory—I meant to—but I can't." Theher voice fell to a tone that had vibranregret in it. "You should have made sure

—married me when you last came home."

"But I'd nowhere to take you. The far was only half-broken prairie, th

homestead almost unhabitable."

Agatha winced at this. It was, no doubtrue, but it seemed horribly petty an

commonplace. His comprehensiostopped at such details as these, and hhad given her no credit for the couragwhich would have made light of bodil

discomfort.

"Do you think—that—would havmattered? We were both very young then



and we could have faced our troubles angrown up together. Now we're not thsame. You let me grow up alone."



"'Do you think—that—would have

mattered?'"

Hawtrey spread his hands out. "I havenchanged."

He contented himself with that, an

Agatha grew more resolute. There was nspark of imagination in him, scarcely evea spark of the passion which, if it habeen strong enough, might have swept he

away in spite of her shrinking. He was man of comely presence, whimsical, anquick, as she remembered, at lighbadinage, but when there was a crisis tbe grappled with he somehow failed. Higraces were on the surface. There was ndepth in him.



"Aggy," he added humbly, when heshould have been dominantly forceful, "is only a question of a little time. You wil

get used to me."

"Then," and the girl clutched at thchance of respite, "give me six month

from to-day. It isn't very much to askGregory."

The man wrinkled his brows. "It's

great deal," he answered slowly. "I seeo feel that we shall drift further an

further apart if once I let you go."

"Then you feel that we have drifted ittle already?"

"I don't know what has come over you



Aggy, but there has been a change. I'what I was, and I want to keep you."

Agatha rose and turned towards hirather white in face. "Then if you are wisyou will not urge me now."

Hawtrey met her gaze for a moment, anhen made a sign of acquiescence as hurned his eyes away. He recognised thahis was a new Agatha, one whose wil

was stronger than his. Yet he was halfastonished that he had yielded so readily.

"Well," he said, "if it must be, I can only

give way to you, but I must be free tcome over here whenever I wish." Then hought seemed to strike him. "But yo

may have to go away," he added, with



sudden concern. "If I am to wait simonths, what are you to do in thmeanwhile?"

The girl smiled wearily. Now the respithad been granted her, the question he hadraised was not one that caused her an

great concern.

"Oh," she said, "we can think of thaater, I have borne enough to-day. This ha

been a little hard upon me, Gregory."

"I don't think it has been particularleasy for either of us," said Hawtrey, wit

a trace of grimness. "Anyway, it seemhat I'm only distressing you." He smile

wryly. "It's naturally not what I hadexpected to do. I'll come back when I fee



've quite grasped the situation."

He moved a pace or two nearer, and

aking one of her hands swiftly stoopeand kissed her cheek.

"My dear," he said, "I only want to mak

t as easy as I can. You'll try to think ome, favourably."

Then he went out and left her sitting wit

a troubled face beside the open windowA little warm breeze swept into the almosempty room, and outside a blaze osunshine rested on the prairie. It was tor

up with wheel ruts about the house, for thwooden building rose abruptly withoufence or garden from the waste owhitened grass. Close to it there stood



birch-log barn or stables, its sidecuriously ridged and furrowed where thrunks were laid on one another, roofed

with wooden shingles that had warpento hollows here and there. Further awahere rose another long building

apparently of sod, and a great shapeles

yellow mound with a domed top towerebehind the latter. It was most unlike a triEnglish rick, besides being bigger, andAgatha wondered what it could be. As matter of fact, it was a not uncommon for of granary, the straw from the lashrashing flung over a birch-pole framing.

Behind that there ran a great breadth oknee-high stubble, blazing ochre ancadmium in the sunlight. It had evidentl

extended further than it did, for



blackened space showed where a fire habeen lighted to destroy it. Here Hastingsclad in blue duck, with long boots, wa

ploughing, plodding behind his horseswhich stopped now and then when thshare jarred against a patch of still frozesoil. Further on two other men silhouette

n blue against the whitened grass drovspans of slowly moving oxen that haulebig breaker ploughs, and the lines of clodhat lengthened behind them gleamed in th

sunlight a rich chocolate-brown. Beyonhem the wilderness ran unbroken to th

horizon.

Agatha gazed at it all vacantly, but thnewness and strangeness of it reacteupon her. She felt very desolate and

onely, and by and bye remembered tha



she had still to grapple with a practicadifficulty. She could not stay with MrsHastings indefinitely, and she had not th

east notion where to go or what she wao do. She was leaning back in her chai

wearily with half-closed eyes when hehostess came in and looked at her with

smile that suggested comprehension. MrsHastings was thin, and seemed a triflworn, but she had shrewd, kindly eyesJust then she wore a plain print dreswhich was dusted here and there witflour.

"So you have sent him away?" she said.

It was borne in upon Agatha that shcould be candid with this woman who shfancied had already guessed the truth.



"Yes," she said, "for six months. That iswe are not to decide on anything until thehave expired. I felt we must get used t

each other. It seemed best."

"To you. Did it seem best to Gregory?"

A flush crept into Agatha's face. Thoughhis acquiescence had been a relief to hershe felt that after all he might have made more vigorous protest.

"He gave in to me," she said.

Mrs. Hastings looked thoughtful. "Well,

she said, "I believe you were wise, buhat opens up another question. What ar

you going to do in the meanwhile?"

"I don't know," said Agatha wearily. "



suppose I shall have to go away—tWinnipeg, most probably. I could teach, hink."

"How are you and Gregory to get used teach other if you go away?"

Agatha made a little helpless gesture. "hadn't looked at it in that light."

"Are you very anxious to get used t

him?"

Agatha shrank from the question; buhere was a constraining kindliness in he

companion's eyes.

"I daren't quite think about it yet. I meao try. I must try. I seem to be playing an

utterly contemptible, selfish part, but



could not marry him—now!"

Her hostess quietly crossed the room

and sat down by her side.

"My dear," she said, "as I told you, hink you are doing right, and in som

respects I believe I know how you feeEverybody prophesied disaster when came out to join Allen from a shelteredhome in Montreal, and at the beginning m

ife here was not easy to me. It was all sdifferent, and there were times when I waafraid, and my heart was horribly heavy. It hadn't been for Allen I think I should

have given in and broken down. Hunderstood, however. He never failedme."



Agatha's eyes grew misty, and she turnedher head away.

"Yes," she said, "that would make iwonderfully easier."

"You must forgive me," said he

companion. "It was tactless, but I didnmean to hurt you. Well, one difficultyshouldn't give us very much trouble. Whshouldn't you stay here with me?"

Agatha turned towards her abruptly wita relief in her face from which ithowever, faded again. She liked thi

woman, and she liked her husband, but shremembered that she had no claim ohem.



"Oh," she said, "it is out of the question.

"Wait a little. I'm proposing to give you

quite as much as you will probably care tdo. There are my two little girls to teachand I think they have rather taken to you. can scarcely find a minute to do it myself

and, as you have seen, there is a pianwhich has after all only a few of the notebroken. Besides, we have only onScandinavian maid who smashe

everything that isn't made of induratefibre, and I'm afraid she'll marry one ohe boys in a month or two. It was only b

sending the kiddies to Brandon and gettinMrs. Creighton, a neighbour of ours, took after Allen, who insisted on m

going, that I was able to get to Paris wit

some Montreal friends. In any case, you'



have no end of duties."

"You are doing this out of—charity?"

Mrs. Hastings laughed. "Allen wrotsome friends of his in Winnipeg to sendme anybody out a week or two ago."

The girl's eyes shone mistily. "Oh," shsaid, "you have lifted one weight off mmind."

"I think," said Mrs. Hastings, "the otherwill also be removed in due time."

Then she talked cheerfully of othematters, and Agatha listened to her with vague wonder, which was, however, noaltogether justified, at her good fortune i

falling in with such a friend, for there ar



n that country a good many men anwomen who resemble this farmer's wife ione respect. Unfettered by convention

hey stretch out an open hand to thstranger and the outcast. Toil has broughhem charity in place of hardness, and stil

retaining, as some of them do, the cultur

of the cities, they have outgrown all thpetty bonds of caste. The wheat-groweand the hired man eat together, his wife odaughter mends the latter's clothes, and heas the natural result of it, not infrequentlmakes the farmer's cause his own. Rightare good-humouredly conceded in plac

of being fought for, and the sense ogrievance and half-veiled suspicion arexchanged for an efficient co-operation. Imust, however, be admitted that there ar

also farmers of another kind, from who



he hired man has occasionally somdifficulty in extracting his covenantewages by personal violence. That, too

fails now and then.

By and bye a team and a jolting waggoswept into sight, and Mrs. Hastings ros

when the man who drove it pulled hihorses up.

"It's Sproatly; I wonder what has brough

him here," she said, and as the man whsprang down walked towards the housshe gazed at him almost incredulously.

"He's quite smart," she added. "I donsee a single patch on that jacket, and hhas positively got his hair cut."



"Is that an unusual thing in Mr. Sproatly'case?" Agatha asked.

"Yes," said Mrs. Hastings. "It's veryunusual indeed. What is stranger still, hhas taken the old grease-spotted band ofhis hat, after clinging to it affectionatel

for the last twelve months."

Agatha fancied that the soft hat, whicfell shapelessly over part of Sproatly'

face, needed something to replace thdiscarded band; but in another moment owo he entered the room. He shook hand

with them both, and then sat down an

smiled.

"You are looking remarkably fresh, buappearances are not invariably to b



depended on, and it's advisable to keephe system up to par," he said. "I suppos

you don't want a tonic of any kind."

"I don't," said Mrs. Hastings resolutely"Allen doesn't, either. Besides, didn't yoget into some trouble over that tonic?"

"It was the cough cure," said Sproatlwith a grin. "I sold a man at Lander's onof the large-sized bottles and when he ha

aken some he felt a good deal betterThen he seems to have argued the thing ouike this: if one dose had relieved th

cough, a dozen should drive it out of hi

altogether, and he took the lot. He slept foforty-eight hours afterwards, and when came across him at the settlement hattacked me with a club. The fault, I ma



point out, was in his logic. Perhaps yowould like some pictures. I've a rathestriking oleograph of the Deutcher Kaiser

t must be like him, for two of his subjectrecognised it. One hung it up in his shantyThe other asked me to hold it out, and thepitched a stove billet through the middl

of it. He, however, produced his dollarsaid he felt so much better after what he'done that he didn't grudge it."

"I'm afraid we're not worth powder anshot," said Mrs. Hastings. "Do you everemember our buying any tonics opictures from you?"

"I don't, though I have felt that you ougho have done it," and Sproatly, who

paused a moment, turned towards Agath



with a little whimsical inclination. "Thprofessional badinage of an unlicensedealer in patent medicines may now an

hen mercifully cover a good deal oembarrassment. Miss Ismay has broughsomething pleasantly characteristic of thOld Country along with her."

His hostess disregarded the last remark"Then if you didn't expect to sell uanything, what did you come for?"

"For supper," said Sproatly cheerfully"Besides that, to take Miss Rawlinson drive. I told her last night it would affor

me considerable pleasure to show her thprairie. We could go round by Lander'and back."



"Then you will probably come acrosher somewhere about the straw-pile withe kiddies."

Sproatly took the hint, and when he wenout Mrs. Hastings laughed.

"You would hardly suppose that was ayoung man of excellent education?" shsaid. "So it's on Winifred's account he hadriven over; at first I fancied it was o

yours."

Agatha was astonished, but she smiled"If Winifred favours him with her view

about young men he will probably brather sorry for himself. He lives neayou?"



"No," said Mrs. Hastings; "in thsummer he lives in his waggon, or undet, I don't know which. Of course, if he'

really taken with Winifred he will have toalter that."

"But he has only seen her once—yo

can't mean that he is serious."

"I really can't speak for Sproatly, but iwould be quite in keeping with th

customs of the country if he was."

A minute or two later Agatha sawWinifred in the waggon when i

reappeared from behind the strawpile, anMrs. Hastings turned towards the window

"She has gone with him," she sai



significantly. "Unfortunately, he has takenmy kiddies too. If he brings them bacwith no bones broken it will be a relief t

me."

CHAPTER XII.

WANDERERS.

Agatha had spent a month with MrsHastings when the latter, who was drivinover to Wyllard's homestead with her onafternoon, pulled up her team while the

were still some little distance away fro



t, and looked about her with evidennterest. On the one hand, a vast breadth oorn-up loam ran back across the prairie

which was now faintly flecked with greenOn the other, ploughing teams werscattered here and there across thussocky sod, and long lines of clods tha

flashed where the sunlight struck theifacets trailed out behind them. The greasweep of grasses that rustled joyouslbefore a glorious warm wind, gleamealmost luminous, and overhead hung vault of blue without a cloud in it. Trailinout across it, skeins and wisps of bird

moved up from the south.

"Harry is sowing a very big crop thiyear, and most of it on fall back-set," sh

said. "He has, however, horses enough to



do that kind of thing, and, of course, hdoes it thoroughly." Then she glancedowards where the teams were haulin

unusually heavy ploughs through thgrassy sod. "This is virgin prairie that he'breaking, and he'll probably put oats on iThey ripen quicker. He ought to be a ric

man after harvest unless the frost comesor the market goes against him. Some ohis neighbours, including my husbandwould have sown a little less and held reserve in hand."

Agatha remembered what Wyllard hadold her one night on board th

Scarrowmania, and smiled, for shfancied that she understood the man. Hwas not one to hedge, as she had heard i

called, or cautiously hold his hand. H



staked boldly, but she felt that this was noonly for the sake of the dollars that hmight stand to gain. It was part of hi

nature—the result of an optimistic faith ocourage that appealed to her, and sheeove of effort. She also fancied that hi

was no spasmodic, impulsive activity. Sh

could imagine him holding on asteadfastly with everything against himexacting all that men and teams anmachines could do. It struck her as curiouhat she should feel so sure of this; but sh

admitted that it was the case.

In the meanwhile he was approachinhem, sitting in the driving-seat of a bi

machine that ripped broad furrows throughe crackling sod. Four horses plodde

wearily in front of it until he thrust on



hand over, and there was a rattle andclanking as he swung them and thmachine round beside the waggon. The

he got down, and stood smiling up aAgatha with his soft hat in his hand and thsunlight falling full upon his weatherdarkened face. It was not a particularl

striking face, but there was something it, a hint of restrained force an

steadfastness, she thought, whicGregory's did not possess, and for moment or two she watched hiunobtrusively. She felt she could not helpt.

He wore an old blue shirt, open at thhroat and belted into trousers of blu

duck at the waist, and she noticed the fin

symmetry of his somewhat spare figure



The absence of any superfluous fleshinesstruck her as in keeping with her view ohis character. The man was well-endued

physically; but apart from the stronvitality that was expressed in every line ohis pose he looked clean, as she vagueldescribed it to herself. There was, a

east, an indefinable something about hihat was apparently born of a simple

healthful life spent in determined labour ihe open air. It became plainer as sh

remembered other men she had met upowhom the mark of the beast waunmistakably set. Then Mrs. Hasting

broke the silence.

"Well," she said, "we have driven oveas we promised. I've no doubt you wil

give us supper, but we'll go on and si



down with Mrs. Nansen in the meanwhileexpect you're too busy to talk to us."


http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/bindloss-harold-hawtreys-deputy 376/1010"'Well,' she said, 'we have driven over



as we promised!'"

Wyllard laughed, and it occurred to

Agatha that his laugh was wholesome awell as pleasant.

"I generally am busy," he admitted

"These beasts have, however, been at isince sun-up, and they're rather played ounow. I'll talk to you as long as you likafter supper, which will soon be ready

t's bad economy to ask too much frohem."

Agatha noticed that though the nea

horse's coat was foul with dust and sweahe laid his brown hand upon it, and shsupposed she must be fanciful, for iseemed to her that the gentleness wit



which he did it was very suggestive.

"I wonder if that's the only reason tha

nfluences you," she said.

A twinkle crept into Wyllard's eyes. "Iseems to me a good one as far as it goes

anyway, I've been driven rather hardmyself now and then, and I didn't like it."

"Doesn't that usually result in makin

one drive somebody else harder to makup for it, when one has the opportunity?"

"If it does it certainly isn't logical

Logic's rather a fine thing when it'sound."

"Then," Mrs. Hastings broke in, "I'l

suggest a proposition: what's to be th



result of all this ploughing if we havharvest frost or the market goes againsyou?"

"Quite a big deficit," said Wyllardcheerfully.

"And that doesn't cause you ananxiety?"

"I'll have had some amusement for m

money."

Mrs. Hastings turned to Agatha. "Hcalls working from sunrise until it's dark

and afterwards now and thenamusement!" Then she looked back aWyllard. "I believe it isn't quite easy foyou to hold your back as straight as yo



are doing, and that off-horse certainlooks as if it wanted to lie down."

Wyllard laughed. "It won't until aftesupper, anyway. There are two more rowof furrows still to do."

"I suppose that is a hint," and MrsHastings glanced at Agatha when thwaggon jolted on.

"That man," she said, "is a greafavourite of mine. For one thing, he'fastidious, though he's fortunately very fafrom perfect in some respects. He has

red-hot temper, which now and then runaway with him."

"What do you mean by fastidious?"



"It's a little difficult to define, but certainly don't mean pernicketty. Ocourse, there is a fastidiousness whic

makes one shrink from unpleasant thingsbut Harry's is the other kind. It impels hio do them every now and then."

Agatha made no answer. She wauneasily conscious that it might not badvisable to think too much about thiman, and in another minute or two the

reached the homestead. The house was plain frame building that had apparentlgrown out of an older and smaller one oogs, part of which remained. It was muche same with the barns and stables, fo

while they were stoutly built of frameimber or logs one end of most of the

was lower than the rest, and in some case



consisted of poles and sods. Even to heuntrained eyes all she saw suggesteorder, neatness, and efficiency. The whole

was flanked and sheltered by a big bircbluff, in which trunks and brancheshowed up through a thin green haze oiny opening leaves, though here and ther

uncovered twigs still cut in lace-likracery against the blue of the sky.

A man whom Wyllard had sent afte

hem took the horses, and when she godown Agatha commented on what shcalled the added-to look of the buildings.

"The Range," said Mrs. Hastings, "hagrown rapidly since Harry took hold. Thold part represents the high-water mark ohis father's efforts. Of course," she adde



reflectively, "Harry has had command osome capital since a relative of his diedbut I never thought that explaine

everything."

Then they entered the house, and a greyhaired Swedish woman led them throug

several match-boarded rooms into a bigcool hall. She left them there for awhileand Agatha was busy for a minute or twowith her impressions of the house. It wa

singularly empty by comparison with thfew English homesteads she had seenThere were neither curtains nor carpetnor hangings of any kind, but it wacommodious and comfortable.

"What can a bachelor want with a placike this?" she asked.



"I don't know," said Mrs. Hastings"perhaps it's Harry's idea of having everhing proportionate. The Range is quite

big, and generally a prosperous, farmBesides, it's likely that he doesncontemplate remaining a bachelor foever. Indeed, Allen and I sometime

wonder how he has escaped so long."

"Is that the right word?" Agatha asked.

"It is," said her companion with a laugh"You see, he's highly eligible from oupoint of view, but at the same time he'apparently invulnerable. I believe," sh

added drily, "that's the right word, too."

Then the Swedish housekeeper appeareagain, and they talked with her until sh



retired to bring the six o'clock supperSoon after it was laid out Wyllard and thmen came in. He was attired as whe

Agatha had last seen him, except that hhad evidently brushed himself and put on store jacket. He led his guests to the heaof the long table, but the men—and ther

were a number of them—sat below, andhad evidently no diffidence abouaddressing question or comment to theiemployer.

They ate with a somewhat voraciouhaste, but that appeared to be the custoof the country, and Agatha could find nogreat fault with their manners oconversation. The latter was, for the mospart, quaintly witty, and some of the

used what struck her as remarkably fittin



and original similes. Indeed, as the meaproceeded she became curiouslnterested in the men and thei

surroundings.

The windows were open wide, and sweet, warm air swept into the barel

furnished room. The spaciousness of thatter impressed her, and she was pleased

with the evident unity between thesbrown-faced, strong-armed toilers an

heir leader. He sat, self-contained, bucourteous and responsive to all alike, ahe head of his table, and though that is, a

she had discovered, in most respects aessentially democratic country, she felhat there was something almost feudal ihe relations between him and his men

She could not imagine them bein



confined to the mere exaction of so mucabour and the expectation of payment o

wages due. She was also pleased that h

had not changed his dress, which wouldshe felt, have been a singularly unfittinaction. In fact, so strong was her intereshat she was almost astonished when th

meal was over, though it must be admittedhat most of the men rose and went out i

fifteen minutes. Afterwards she and MrsHastings talked with the housekeeper foawhile, and an hour had slipped awawhen Wyllard suggested that he shouldshow her the sloo beyond the bluff.

"It's the nearest approach to a lake whave until you get to the alkali tract," hsaid.



Agatha went with him through thshadow of the wood, and when at lengthey came out of it he found her a sea

upon a fallen birch. The house anploughing were hidden now, and thewere alone on the slope to a slight hollown which half a mile of gleaming wate

ay. Its surface was broken here and thereby tussocks of grass and reeds, anbeyond it the prairie ran back unbroken, dim grey waste, to the horizon. The suhad dipped behind the bluff, and the skhad become a vast green transparencyThere was no wind now, but a wonderfu

exhilarating freshness crept into thcooling air, and the stillness was onlybroken by the clamour of startlewildfowl which presently sank again

Agatha could see them paddling i



clusters about the gleaming sloo.

"Those are ducks—wild ones?" sh

asked.

"Yes," said Wyllard; "duck of variouskinds. Most of them the same as you

English ones."

"Do you shoot them?"

Agatha was not greatly interested, but hseemed disposed to silence, and she feltfor no very clear reason, that it waadvisable to talk of something.

"No," he said, "not often, anyway. IMrs. Nansen wants a couple I crawl dowo the long grass with the rifle and ge

hem for her."



"The rifle? Doesn't the big bullet destrohem?"

"No," said Wyllard. "You have to shooheir head off or cut their neck in two."

"You can do that—when they're right ou

n the sloo?" asked Agatha, who hadearned that it is much more difficult t

shoot with a rifle than a shot-gun, whicspreads its charge.

Wyllard smiled. "Generally; that is, if haven't been doing much just before. Idepends upon one's hands. We have ou

game laws, but as a rule nobody worrieabout them, and, anyway, those birdwon't nest until they reach the tundra bhe Polar Sea. Still, as I said, we neve



shoot them unless Mrs. Nansen wants onor two for the pot."

"Why?"

"I don't quite know. For one thinghey're worn out; they just stop here t

rest."

His answer appealed to the girl. It dinot seem strange to her that the love of th

ower creation should be strong in thiman, who had no hesitation in admittinhat the game laws were no restraint t

him. For the most part, at least, when thes

Lesser Brethren sailed down out of thblue heavens worn with their journey hgave them right of sanctuary.



"They have come a long way?" shasked.

Wyllard pointed towards the South"From Florida, Cuba, Yucatan; furthehan that, perhaps. In a day or two they'l

push on again towards the Pole, and other

will take their places. There's a furthedetachment arriving now."

Looking up, Agatha saw a stragglin

wedge of birds dotted in dusky speckagainst the vault, of transcendental greent coalesced, drew out again, and droppe

swiftly, and the air was filled with th

rush of wings; then there was a harscrying and splashing, and she heard throubled water lap among the reeds unti

deep silence closed in upon the slo



again.

"I wonder," she said, "why they do it?"

A rather curious smile crept intoWyllard's eyes. "It's their destiny: they'rwanderers and strangers without

habitation: there's unrest in them. After few months on the tundra mosses to gathestrength and teach the young to fly, they'lunfold their wings to beat another passag

before the icy gales. Some of us, I thinkare like them!"

Agatha could not avoid the persona

application. It would have appeared lesadmissible among her friends at ThGrange, but she felt that the constraints oEnglish reticence were out of place in th



wilderness.

"You surely don't apply that to yourself,

she said. "You certainly have a habitation—the finest, isn't it, on this part of thprairie?"

"Yes," said Wyllard slowly; "I supposet is. I've now had a little rest an

quietness, too."

This did not appear to call for aanswer, and Agatha sat silent.

"Still," he said, "I have a feeling tha

some day the call will come, and I shalhave to take the trail again." He pausedand looked at her before he added, "Iwould be easier if one hadn't to go alone



or, since that would be necessary, if onehad at least something to come back twhen the journey was done."

"It would be necessary?" said Agathawho was rather puzzled by his steadgaze.

"Yes," he said with a somewhampressive gravity, "the call will com

from the icy North if it ever comes at all."

There was another brief silence, anAgatha wondered what he was thinking ountil he went on again.

"I remember how I last came back frohere. We were rather late that season, and

out of our usual beat when the gale brok



upon us between Alaska and Asia in thegateway of the Pole. We ran before it witha strip of the boom-foresail on her and

ib that blew to ribands every now anhen. She was a little schooner of ninetons or so, and for most of a week sh

scudded with the grey seas tumbling afte

her, white-topped, out of the snow andspume. They ranged high above heaffrail curling horribly, but one did no

want to look at them. The one man on dechad a line about him, and he looked aheadwatching her screwing round with hoveup bows as she climbed the seas. If he'

et her fall off or claw up, the next onwould have made an end of her. He waknee deep half the time in icy brine, anhis hands had split and opened with th

frost, but the sweat dripped from him a



he clung to the jarring wheel. One of thoshelmsmen—perhaps two—had anotherouble which preyed on them. They wer

hinking of the three men they had lefbehind.

"Well," he added, "we ran out of the

gale, and I had bitter words to face whewe reached Vancouver. As one result of i

walked out of the city with four or fivdollars in my pocket—though there was

share due to me. Then I rode up into thranges in an open car to mend railroabridges in the frost and snow. It was nohe kind of home-coming one would caro look forward to."

"Ah," said Agatha, "it must have beenhorribly dreary?"



The man met her eyes. "Yes," he said"you—know. You came here from faraway, I think a little weary, too, and

something failed you. Then you felyourself adrift. There were—it seemed—only strangers round you, but you werwrong in one respect; you were by n

means a stranger to me."

He had been leaning against a bircrunk, but now he moved a little nearer

and stood gravely looking down on her.

"You have sent Gregory away?" he said

"Yes," said Agatha, and, startled as shewas, it did not strike her that the meradmission was misleading.



Wyllard stretched his hands out. "Thewon't you come to me?"

The blood swept into the girl's face. Fohe moment she forgot Gregory, and wa

only conscious of an unreasoning impulswhich prompted her to take the hands hel

out to her. Then she rose and faced thman, with burning cheeks.

"You know nothing of me," she said

"Can you think that I would let you takme—out of charity?"

"Again you're wrong—on both points

As I once told you, I have sat for hourbeside the fire beneath the pines or amonhe boulders with your picture fo

company. When I was worn-out and



despondent you encouraged me. You havebeen with me high up in the snow on thranges, and through leagues of shadow

bush. That is not all, however, though it'difficult to speak of such things to youThere were times when as we drove thbranch line up the gorge beneath the bi

divide, all one's physical nature shranfrom the monotony of brutal labour. Thpay-days came round, and opportunitiewere made for us—to forget what we haborne, and had still to bear, in the snowand the icy water. Then you laid restraining hand on me. I could not tak

your picture where you could not go. Is alhat to count for nothing?"

Then he spread his hands out forcibly

"As to the other question: can't you ge



beyond the narrow point of view? We'ren a big, new country where the ol

barriers are down. We're merely flesh and

blood—red blood—and we speak as wfeel. Admitting that I was sorry for you—am—how does that tell against me—oyou? There's one thing only that counts a

all: I want you."

Agatha was stirred, and almosdismayed at the effect his words had o

her. He had spoken with a force andpassion that had nearly swept her awawith it. The vigour of the new lanhrobbed in his voice, and, flinging asid

all cramping restraints and conventionshe had, as he had said, claimed her aflesh and blood. There was no doubt tha

her nature responded, and it wa



significant that Gregory had fadealtogether out of her mind; but there wasafter all, pride in her, and she could no

quite bring herself to look at things frohis standpoint. All her prejudices and hesense of fitness were opposed to it. Foone thing, he had taken the wrong wa

when he had admitted that he was sorrfor her. She did not want his compassionand she shrank from the shadow of thhought that she would marry him—fo

shelter. It brought her a sudden, shamefuconfusion as she remembered the hastwith which marriages were, it seemed

arranged on the prairie. Then, as the firsunreasoning impulse which had almoscompelled her to yield to him passeaway, she remembered that it wa

scarcely two months since she had me



him in England. It was intolerable that hshould think she would be willing to falnto his arms merely because he had hel

hem out to her.

"It's a little difficult to get beyond one'sense of what is fit," she said. "You—

must say it again—can't know anythinabout me. You have woven fancies abouhat photograph, but you must recognishat I'm not the girl you have, it seems

created out of them. In all probabilitshe's wholly unreal, unnatural, visionary.She contrived to smile, for she warecovering her composure. "Perhaps it'easy when one has imagination to endow person with qualities and graces thacould never belong to them. It must b

easy"—and though she was unconsciou



of it, there was a trace of bitterness in hevoice—"because I know I could do imyself."

Again the man held his hands out"Then," he said simply, "won't you try? Iyou can only feel sure that the person ha

hem it's possible that he could acquirone or two."

Agatha drew back, disregarding this

"Then I've changed ever so much sinchat photograph was taken."

Wyllard admitted it. "Yes," he said, "

recognised that; you were a little immaturhen. I know that now—but all th

graciousness and sweetness in you hagrown and ripened. What is more, it ha



grown just as I seemed to know it wouldo. I saw that clearly the day we mebeside the stepping-stones. I would hav

asked you to marry me in England onlGregory stood in the way."

Then the colour ebbed suddenly out o

he girl's face as she remembered.

"Gregory," she said in a strained voice"stands in the way still. I didn't send hi

away altogether. I'm not sure I made thaclear."

Wyllard started, but he stood very stil

again for a moment or two.

"I wonder," he said, "if there's anythinsignificant in the fact that you gave me tha



reason last? He failed you in some way?"

"I'm not sure that I haven't failed him; bu

can't go into that."

Again Wyllard stood silent awhile. Thehe turned to her with the signs of a stron

restraint in his face.

"Gregory," he said, "is a friend of minehere is, at least, one very good reaso

why I should remember it, but it seemhat somehow he hadn't the wit to keep

you. Well, I can only wait in themeanwhile, but when the time seems ripe

shall ask you again. Until then you havmy promise that I will not say anotheword that could distress you. Perhaps had better take you back to Mrs. Hasting



now."

Agatha turned away, and they walked

back together silently through the bluff.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE SUMMONS.

Mrs. Hastings was standing beside he

waggon in the gathering dusk when Agathand Wyllard joined her, and when theatter had helped them up she looke

down at him severely as she gathered up



he reins.

"By this time Allen will have had to pu

he kiddies to bed," she said. "Christinaas you might have borne in mind, goeover to Branstock's every eveningAnyway, you'll drive across and see hi

about that team as soon as you can; como supper."

"I'll try," said Wyllard with a certain

hesitation; and Mrs. Hastings turned to hecompanion as they drove away.

"Why did he look at you before h

answered me?" she asked, and laughedfor there was just light enough left to showhe colour in Agatha's cheek. "Well," she

added, "I told Allen he was sure to be th



first."

Agatha looked at her in eviden

bewilderment, but she nodded. "Yes," shesaid, "of course, I knew it would comeEverybody knows by now that you havfallen out with Gregory."

"But, as I told you, I haven't fallen ouwith him."

"Then you certainly haven't married himand if you have said 'No' to Harry Wyllarbecause you would sooner take Gregorafter all, you're a singularly unwise youn

woman. Anyway, you'll have to meet himwhen he comes to supper. Allen's fond oa talk with Harry; I can't have him kepaway."



"I was a little afraid of that," saiAgatha quietly. "What makes the situatiomore difficult is that he told me he woul

ask me again."

Mrs. Hastings appeared thoughtful. "Ihat case he will in all probability do it

but I don't think you need feel diffidenabout meeting him, especially as you canhelp it. He'll wait and say nothing until hconsiders it advisable."

She changed the subject, and talkeabout other matters until they reached thhomestead; but as the weeks went b

Agatha found that what she had told hewas warranted.

Wyllard drove over every now and then



but she was reassured by his attitude. Hgreeted her with the quiet cordiality whichad hitherto characterised him, and it wen

a long way towards allaying thembarrassment she was conscious of afirst. By and bye, however, she felt noembarrassment at all, in spite of th

disturbing possibility that he might asome future time once more adopt the rôlof lover. In the meanwhile, she realisedhat in face of the efforts she made to thin

of him tenderly she was drifting furtheapart from Gregory; and she had, as ihappened, two further offers of marriag

before the wheat had shot up a hand'breadth above the rich black loam. Thiwas a matter of regret to her, and, thougMrs. Hastings assured her that the "boys

would get over it, she was rather shocke



o hear that one of them had shortlafterwards involved himself in difficultieby creating a disturbance in Winnipeg.

The wheat, however, was growing talwhen, at Mrs. Hastings's request, shdrove over with her again to Willow

Range. Wyllard was out when thereached it, and leaving Mrs. Hastings anhis housekeeper together she wandereout into the open air. She went through th

birch bluff and towards the sloo, whichad almost dried up now, and it was witha curious stirring of confused feelings thashe remembered what Wyllard had said toher there. Through them all there ran regret that she had not met him four yearearlier.



That, however, was a train of thoughshe did not care to indulge in, and in ordeo get rid of it she walked more briskly up

a low rise where the grass was alreadurning white again, over the crest of i

and down the side of another hollow. Thprairie rolled just there in wid

undulations as the sea does when thswell of a distant gale under-runs a glasscalm. She had grown fond of the prairieand its clear skies and fresh breezes habrought the colour to her cheeks and giveher composure, though there were timewhen the knowledge that she was n

nearer a decision in regard to Gregorweighed upon her like a chill depressinshadow. She had seen very little of himand he had not been effusive then. What h

felt she could not tell, but it had been



relief to her when he had ridden awaagain. Then for a while he faded to aunsubstantial, shadowy figure in the bac

of her mind.

That afternoon the prairie stretcheaway before her gleaming in the sunligh

inder a vast sweep of cloudless blue. Shwas half-way down the long slope when clash and tinkle reached her, and for thfirst time she noticed that a cloud of dus

hung about the hollow at the foot of iwhere there had been another sloo. It hadhowever, evidently dried up weeks agoand as there were men and horses movinamidst the dust she supposed that thewere cutting prairie hay, which growonger in such places than it does upon th

evels. She went on another half-mile, an



hen sat down some distance off, for shhad already walked further than she hantended. She could now see the men mor

clearly, and though it was fiercely hot theywere evidently working at high pressureTheir blue duck clothing and bare browarms appeared among the white and ochr

inting of the grass that seemed chargewith brightness, and the sounds of theiactivity came up to her. She coulddistinguish the clashing tinkle of thmowers, the crackle of the harsh stemsand the rattle of waggon wheels.

By and bye a great mound of gleamingrass overhanging two half-seen horsemoved out of the sloo, and she watched idraw nearer until she made out Wyllard

sitting in a depression in the front of i



She sat still until he pulled the team uclose beside her and looked down with smile.

"It's 'most two miles to the homestead. Iyou could manage to climb up I coulmake you a comfortable place," he said.

Agatha held her hands up with one fooupon a spoke of the wheel as the maeaned down, and next moment she wa

strongly lifted and felt his supporting hanupon her waist. Then she found herselstanding upon a narrow ledge clutching ahe hay while he tore out several bi

armfuls of it and flung it back upon threst.



"Agatha held her hands up ... as the

man leaned down, and the next momen

she was strongly lifted."

"Now," he said, "I guess you'll find thaa snug enough nest."

She sank into it with at least a certaisense of physical satisfaction. The graswas soft and warm, scented with tharomatic odours of wild peppermint, an

t yielded like a downy cushion beneather limbs. Still, she was just a littluneasy in mind, for she fancied she haseen a sudden sign of tension in the man'face when he had for a moment held heon the edge of the waggon. Unobtrusivelshe flashed a glance at him, and wa

reassured. He was looking straight befor



him with unwavering eyes, and his facwas as quiet as it usually was again

either of them said anything until th

eam moved on. Then he turned to her.

"You won't get jolted much," he said"They've been at it since four o'clock thi

morning."

"That," said Agatha, "must have meanhat you rose at three."

Wyllard smiled. "As a matter of fact, iwas half-past two. There was no dew lasnight, and we started early. I've severa

extra teams this year, and there's a gooddeal of hay to cut. Of course, we have tget it in the sloos or any damp placwhere it's long. We don't sow grass, and



we have no meadows like those there arn England."

Agatha understood that he meant to talabout matters of no particulaconsequence, as he usually did. Therwas, as she had noticed, a vein of almos

poetic imagination in this man, and hidea that she had been with him throughe snow of the lonely ranges and th

gloom of the great forests of the Pacifi

slope appealed to her, merely as a prettyfancy, in particular. He had, however, oate very seldom given it rein, and sittin

close beside him among the yielding hashe decided that it was wiser to let hialk about his farm.

"But you have a foreman who could se



he teams turned out, haven't you?" shsaid.

"I had, but he left me three or four dayago. It's a pity in several ways, since I'vaken up rather more than I can handle thi

year."

"Then why didn't you keep him?"

There was a certain grimness i

Wyllard's laugh. "Martial was a littlmuleish, and I'm afraid I'm troubled with shortness of temper now and then. We hada difference of opinion as to the best wa

o drive the mower into the sloo, and hdidn't seem to recognise that he shoulhave deferred to me. Unfortunately, as thboys were standing by, I had to insist upo



him getting out of the saddle."

He had turned a little further toward

her, and Agatha noticed that there was abruise upon one side of his face. Aftewhat he had just told her the sight of iarred upon her, though she would no

admit that there was any reason why ishould do so. She could not deny that ohe prairie a resort to physical force migh

be warranted by the lack of any othe

remedy, but it hurt her to think of hidescending to an open brawl with one ohis men.

Then it occurred to her that the other mahad in all probability suffered more, anhis brought her a certain sense o

satisfaction which she admitted was mor



or less barbarous. She had made it cleahat Wyllard was nothing to her, but she

could not help watching him as he la

among the hay. His wide hat set off hibronzed face, which, though not exactlhandsome, was pleasant and reassuring—she felt that was the best word—to loo

at. The dusty shirt and old blue trousersas she had already noticed, accentuatehe long, clean lines of his figure, and sh

realised with a faint sense of anger that himere physical perfection, his strength ansuppleness, appealed to her. This was, shrecognised, an almost repugnant thing,

feeling to be judiciously checked, but iwould obtrude itself. After all, in spite oher fastidiousness, she was endued witmost of the characteristics of flesh an

blood.



"You must have a good deal to look aftealone," she said.

"Oh yes," said Wyllard; "I'm making mbiggest effort this year. We've sown aeast a third more than I've ever don

before, and I've bought a big bunch o

horses, too. If all goes satisfactorily wshould reap a record harvest, but in thmeanwhile the thing's rather a pull. Oncan't let up a minute; there's alway

something to be done, and a constant neefor supervision."

"Suppose you neglected the latter?"

Wyllard smiled. "Then I'm 'most afraidhere'd be the biggest kind of smash."



After that they talked of other matters ono great consequence, for both of thewere conscious of the necessity for

certain reticence; and when they reachehe homestead Agatha joined Mrs

Hastings, while Wyllard pitched the haoff the waggon. He, however, came in to

supper presently with about half of thothers, and they all sat down together ihe long, barely furnished room. Wyllard

seemed unusually animated, and drewMrs. Hastings into a bout of whimsicabadinage, but he looked up sharply whenby and bye, a beat of hoofs rose from th

prairie.

"Somebody's riding in; I wonder what hwants?" he said. "I certainly don't expec

anybody."



The drumming of hoofs rang morsharply through the open windows, for thsod was hard and dry. Then it broke off

and Agatha saw Wyllard start as a mancame into the room. He was a little, thickset man with a weather-darkened facedressed in rather old blue serge, and h

ooked and walked like a seaman. Ianother moment or two he stood stilooking about him, and Wyllard's lips seight. A little thrill of disconcertion ranhrough Agatha, for she felt she knew whahis stranger's errand must be.

Then Wyllard rose, and walked towardhe man with outstretched hand.

"Sit right down and get some supperYou'll want it if you have ridden in from



he railroad," he said. "We'll talkafterwards."

The stranger nodded. "I'm froVancouver," he said; "had quite a lot orouble tracing you."

He sat down, and Wyllard, who sent man out to take his horse, went back to hiseat, but he was rather silent during threst of the meal. When it was over h

asked Mrs. Hastings to excuse him, aneading the stranger into a smaller roo

pulled out two chairs and laid a cigar boon the table.

"Now you can get ahead," he said.

The seaman fumbled in his pocket, an



aking out a slip of wood handed it to hicompanion.

"That's what I came to bring you," hsaid quietly.

Wyllard's eyes grew very grave as h

gazed at the thing. It was a slip of willowwhich will grow close up to the limits ohe eternal ice, and it bore a rud

representation of the British ensign unio

down, which signifies "In distress.Besides this there were one or twndecipherable words scratched on it, anhree common names rather more clearl

cut. Wyllard recognised every one ohem.

"How did you get it?" he asked, in tens



suspense.

The sailorman once more felt in hi

pocket and took out a piece of paper cufrom a chart. He flattened it out on thable, and it showed, as Wyllard had

expected, a strip of the Kamtchatkan coast

"I guess I needn't tell you where that is,he said, and pointed to the parallel oatitude that ran across it. "Dunton gave i

me. He was up there late last season welover on the western side. A north-easterlygale fell on them, and took most of thforemast out of her. I understand they tried

o lash on a boom or something as a jurmast, but it hadn't height enough to semuch forward canvas, and that being thcase she wouldn't bear more than a three



reefed mainsail. Anyway, they couldn't doanything with her on the wind, and as ikept heading them from the east she sidle

away down south through the Kuriles inthe Yellow Sea. They got ice-bound

somewhere, which explains why Duntoonly fetched Vancouver a week ago."


http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/bindloss-harold-hawtreys-deputy 431/1010"'I guess I needn't tell you where that



is,' he said, and pointed to the parallel

of latitude that ran across."

"But the message?"

"When they were in the thick of theiroubles they hove her to not far off th

beach with ice about, and a Husky camdown on them in some kind of boat."

"A Husky?" said Wyllard, who knew he

meant an Esquimaux.

"That's what Dunton called him, but guess he must have been a Kamtchadale o

a Koriak. Anyway, he brought this strip owillow, and he had Tom Lewson's watchDunton traded him something for it. Thecouldn't make much of what he said excep



hat he'd got the message from three whitmen somewhere along the beach. Thecouldn't make out how long ago."

"Dunton tried for them?"

"How could he? She'd hardly look at th

wind, and the ice was piling up on thcoast close to lee of him. He hung on week or two with the floes driving in alhe while, and then it freshened hard an

blew him out."

He had told his story, and Wyllard, whorose, stood leaning on his chair-back ver

grim in face.

"That," he said, "must have been eight onine months ago."



"It was. They've been up there since thnight we couldn't pick up the boat."

"It's unthinkable," said Wyllard. "Thhing can't be true."

His companion gravely produced a littl

common metal watch made in Connecticuand worth some five or six dollarsOpening it he pointed to a name scratchenside it.

"You can't get over that," he said simply

Wyllard strode up and down the room

and when he sat down again with clenched hand laid upon the table he anhe sailorman looked at each othe

steadily for a moment or two. Then th



stranger made a little gesture.

"You sent them," he said, "what are you

going to do?"

"I'm going for them."

The sailorman smiled. "I knew it woulbe that. You'll have to start right away it's to be done this year. I've my eye upo

a schooner."

He lighted a cigar, and settled himselmore comfortably in his chair. "Well," hesaid, "I'm coming with you, but you'll hav

o buy my ticket to Vancouver. It cleanedme out to get here. We'd a difficulty with ablame gunboat last season, and the boswent back on me. Sealing's not what i



used to be. Anyway, we can fix the thingup later. I won't keep you from youfriends."

Wyllard went out and left him, andhough he did not see Mrs. Hastings jushen he came upon Agatha sitting outsid

he house. She glanced at his face when hsat down beside her.

"Ah," she said, "you have had th

summons."

Wyllard nodded. "Yes," he said, "thaman was the skipper of a schooner I onc

sailed in. He has come to tell me wherhose three men are."

Then he told her quietly what he ha



heard, and the girl was conscious of very curious thrill.

"You are going up there to search fohem?" she said. "Won't it cost you a grea

deal?"

She saw his face harden as he gazed ahe tall wheat, but his expression was ver

resolute.

"Yes," he admitted, "that's a sure thingMost of my dollars are locked up in thicrop, and there's need of constanwatchfulness and effort until the las

bushel's hauled in to the elevators. Iprobably sounds egotistical, but now I'vgot rid of Martial I can't put my hand oany one as fit to see the thing through as



am. Still, I have to go for them. What elscould I do?"

"Wouldn't the Provincial Government oBritish Columbia, or your authorities aOttawa take the matter up?"

Wyllard's smile was somewhat grim. "Iwouldn't be wise to give them aopportunity. For one thing, they've hadenough of sealing cases, and that isn

astonishing. We'll say they applied for thepersons of three British subjects who arsupposed to be living somewhere iRussian Asia—and for that matter

couldn't be sure that two of them arenAmericans—the Russians naturallenquire what the men were doing thereThe answer is that they were poaching th



Russians' seals. Then the affair on thbeach comes up, and there's a big claifor compensation and trouble all round. I

seems to me the last thing those men—hey're practically outlaws—would desir

would be to have a Russian expeditiosent up on their trail. They would want t

ie hidden until they could somehow geoff again."

"But how have they lived up there? Th

whole land's frozen, isn't it, most of thyear?"

"They'd sealing rifles, and the Koriak

make out farther north in their roofed-ipits. One can live on seal and walrus meaand blubber."



Agatha shivered. "But they'd no tents, ofurs, or blankets. It's horrible to imagint."

"Yes," said Wyllard, gravely, "that'swhy I'm going for them."

Agatha sat still a moment. She coulrealise the magnitude of the sacrifice hwas making, and in some degree thhazards that he must face. It appealed t

her with an overwhelming force, but shwas also conscious of a strange dismayThen she turned to him with a flush ocolour in her cheeks and her eyes shining.

"Oh," she said, "it's splendid!"

Wyllard smiled. "What could I do?" h



said, "I sent them."

Then somewhat to Agatha's relief Mrs

Hastings came out of the house, anWyllard moved away towards the stablo bring out her team.

CHAPTER XIV.

AGATHA PROVES

OBDURATE.

It was two days later when Agatha

coming back from a stroll across th



prairie with the two little girls, found MrsHastings awaiting her at the homesteadoor.

"I'll take the kiddies. Harry Wyllard'here, and he seems quite anxious to seyou, though I don't know what he wants,

she said.

She flashed a searching glance at thgirl, whose face, however, remained

expressionless. It was, at least, not oftehat Agatha's composure broke down.

"Anyway," she added, "you had better g

n. Allen has been arguing with him thast half-hour, and can't get any sense into

him. It seems to me the man's crazy; but hmight, perhaps, listen to you."



"I think that's scarcely likely," saidAgatha quietly.

Her companion made a sign ompatience. "Then," she said, "it's a pity

Anyway, if he speaks to you about hiproject you can tell him that it's altogethe

unreasonable."

She drew aside, and Agatha walked intohe room in which she had had one painfu

nterview with Gregory. Wyllard, whowas sitting there, rose as she came in, anhalf-consciously she contrasted him wither lover. Then what Mrs. Hastings had

once predicted came about, for Gregordid not bear that comparison favourablyndeed, it seemed to her that he grew

coarser and meaner in person an



character. Then she turned to Wyllardwho stood quietly watching her.

"Nellie Hastings or her husband habeen telling you what they think of mdea?" he said.

Agatha admitted it. "Yes," she said"Their opinion evidently hasn't mucweight with you."

"I wouldn't go quite so far as that, buyou might have gone a little further thayou did. Haven't you a message for me?Then he smiled before he added, "You

were sent to denounce my folly—and yocan't do it. If you trusted your owmpulses you would give me you

benediction instead."



Agatha, who was troubled with a sensof regret, noticed that there was suggestive wistfulness in his face.

"No," she said slowly, "I can't denounct. For one reason, I have no right of an

kind to force my views on you."

"You told Nellie Hastings that?"

It seemed an unwarranted question, bu

he girl admitted it candidly.

"In one sense I did. I suggested that therwas no reason why you should listen t

me."

Wyllard smiled again. "Nellie and hehusband are good friends of mine, bu

sometimes our friends are a little to



officious. Anyway, it doesn't count. If youhad had that right, you would have told mo go."

Agatha felt the warm blood rise to hecheeks. It seemed to her that he had paiher a great and sincere compliment i

aking it for granted that if she had lovehim she would still have bidden hiundertake his perilous duty.

"Ah," she said, "I don't know. Perhaps should not have been brave enough."

It was not a judicious answer. She quit

realised that, but she felt that she musspeak with unhesitating candour.

"After all," she added, "can you be quit



sure that this thing is your duty?"

The man laughed in a rather gri

fashion. "No," he said, "I can't. In factwhen I sit down to think I can see at leasa dozen reasons why it doesn't concerme. In a case of this kind that's alway

easy. It's just borne in upon me—I donknow how—that I have to go."

Agatha crossed to the window and sa

down. She knew there was more tfollow, and it seemed advisable to securwhatever there might be in her favour in pose of physical ease. Besides, where sh

stood the glare of light flung back by thwhite and dusty grass outside struck fulupon her face, and she did not want thman to read every varying expression. H



eaned upon a chair-back looking at hegravely.

"Well," he said, "we'll go on a littlefurther. It seems better that I should makwhat's in my mind quite clear to you. Yousee, I and Captain Dampier start in

week."

Agatha was certainly conscious of hrill of dismay, but the man proceeded

quietly. "We may be back before thewinter, but it's also quite likely that wmay be ice-nipped before our work ihrough, and in that case it would be

year at least before we reach Vancouvern fact, there's a certain probability that al

of us may leave our bones up there. Nowhere's a thing I must ask you. Is it only



passing trouble that stands between yoand Gregory? Are you still fond of him?"

The girl felt her heart beatinunpleasantly fast. It would have been relief to assure herself that she was afond of Gregory as she had been, but sh

could not do it.

"That," she said, "is a point on which cannot answer you."

"We'll let it go at that. The fact thaGregory sent me over for you implied certain obligation. How far events hav

cleared me of it I don't know—and yodon't seem willing to tell me. But I fanchere is now less cause than there was fo

me to thrust my own wishes into th



background, and, as I start in anotheweek, the situation has forced my hand. can't wait as I had meant to do, and i

would be a vast relief to know that I hamade your future safer than it is before go. Will you marry me at the settlement thmorning I start?"

Half-conscious, as she was, of thunselfishness which had prompted thisuggestion, Agatha turned and faced him i

hot anger.

"Can you suppose for a moment that would agree to that?" she asked.

"Wait," said the man gravely. "Try toook at it quietly. First of all, I want you

You know that—though you have neve



shown me any tenderness, you can't doubt—but I can't stay to win your liking.

must go away. Then, as things stand, you

future is uncertain; and as my wife iwould, at least, be safer. However badlhe man I leave in charge of the Range ma

manage there would be something save

out of the wreck, and I would like to makhat something yours. As I said, I may b

away a year, perhaps eighteen months, andmay never come back. If I don't, the fac

hat you would bear my name could causyou no great trouble. It would lay nrestraint on you in any way."

Agatha looked him steadily in the eyesand spoke as she felt. "We cancontemplate your not coming back. It'

unthinkable."



"Thank you," said Wyllard, still with thgrave quietness she wondered at. "The'm not sure that my turning up agai

would greatly complicate the thing. Therwould, at least, be one way out of thdifficulty. You wouldn't find the situationntolerable if I could make you fond o

me."

The girl broke into a little, high-strunaugh that had a tinge of bitterness in it.

"Oh," she said, "aren't you taking tomuch for granted? Am I really to believyou are making this fantastic offe

seriously? Do you suppose I would marryou—for your possessions?"

"It sounds bloodless? Perhaps it is i



one way, but you wouldn't always find mhat. Just now, because my hand is forcedam only anticipating things. If I live, yo

will some day have to choose between mand Gregory. In this case he must hold hiown if he can."

"Against what you have offered me?She flung the question at him.

He looked at her with his face set an

he signs of restraint very plain on it.

"I expect I deserved that. I wanted tmake you safe. It's the most pressin

difficulty."

The bitterness was still in the girl's eyes

"So far as I am concerned, you seem t



believe it is the only one." Then her angeseemed to carry her away. "Oh," she said"do you imagine that an offer of the kin

you have made me, made as you havmade it, would lead anyone to love you?"

Wyllard smiled. "When I first saw you

picture, and when I saw you afterwards, oved your gracious quietness. Now yo

seem to have got rid of it, I love you betteas you are. There is, however, one thing

must ask again, and it's your clear duty tell me. Are you fonder of Gregory tha

you feel you ever could be of me?"

Agatha's eyes fell. She felt she could noook at him just then, nor could she answe

his question honestly as she almost wisheo.



"At least, I am bound to him until hreleases me."

"Ah," said Wyllard, "that is what I wamost afraid of. All along it hampered meand in it you have the reason for mbloodlessness. It is another reason why

should go away."

"For fear that you should tempt me fromy duty?"

The man's expression changed, and thercrept into his eyes a gleam of the passiohat she knew he was capable of.

"My dear," he said, "I seem to know thacould make you break faith with tha

man. You belong to me. For three years



you have been everywhere with me, buwe will let that go. I must go away, andGregory will have a clear field, but th

probability is in favour of me coming bacagain, and then, if he has failed to makhe most of it, I'll enforce my claim."

He turned and seized one of her handsholding it strongly against her will.

"That is my last word. At least, you wil

et me think that when I go up yonder inthe mists and snow I shall take your goo

wishes for my success away with me."

She lifted her face, which was flushedand once more looked him steadily in theyes.



"They are yours, most fervently," shsaid. "It would be intolerable that yoshould fail."

He smiled very gravely, and let her handfall. "After all," he said, "one can only dwhat one can."

Then he went out without another glancat her, and not long afterwards MrsHastings, who was endued with

reasonable measure of curiosity, foundoccasion to enter the room.

"You have said something to trouble

Harry?" she began.

Agatha contrived to smile. "I'm not surhe's greatly troubled. In any case, I tol



him I would not marry him—for thsecond time."

"He has given up his crazy notion, then?

"He never suggested doing that."

Mrs. Hastings made a little sign ocompassionate astonishment.

"Oh," she said, "he's mad."

"I believe I told him he was bloodlessAt least, that was how he interpreted wha said."

Mrs. Hastings laughed. "Harry Wyllardbloodless! My dear, can't you see that threstraint he now and then practises is th

sign of a tremendous vitality? Still, th



man's mad. Did he tell you that he meano leave Gregory in charge of Willow

Range?"

Agatha was certainly astonished at thisbut Mrs. Hastings nodded. "It's a fact," shsaid. "He asked him to meet him here t

save time, and"—she turned towards thwindow—"there's his waggon now."

She moved towards the door, and the

urned again. "Is there any blood—reblood we will call it—or even commonsense in you? You could have kept thaman here if you had wanted."

"No," said Agatha, "I don't think I could'm not even sure that if I'd had the right

would have done it. He recognised that."



Mrs. Hastings looked at her vercuriously. "Then," she said, "you haveither a somewhat extraordinar

character, or are in love with him in a wahat is beyond most of us. In any case,

can't help feeling that you will be sorry fowhat you have done some day."

Next moment the door closed with bang, and Agatha was left alonendeavouring to analyse her sensation

during her interview with Wyllard, whicwas difficult, for they had been confuseand fragmentary. She had certainly beeangry with him, but the cause for this wamuch less apparent, though there were onor two half-sufficient explanations. Foone thing, it was almost intolerable to fee

hat he had evidently taken it for grante



hat the greater security she would enjoas his wife would appeal to her, thoughere was a certain satisfaction in th

reflection that to leave her dependent upoMrs. Hastings caused him concern. Foanother thing, his reserve had been at leasperplexing, and it was borne in upon he

hat it would have cost her a mordetermined effort to withstand him had hspoken with fire and passion. Threstraint, however, had been evident, andhe could not have practised it unless therhad been something to hold in check; anhen it became apparent that it was mor

mportant to ascertain his motives than heown.

If the man had been fervently in lov

with her, why had he not insisted on tha



fact, she asked. Could it have beebecause he had with the fantastigenerosity, which he was evidentl

capable of, been willing to leave hicomrade unhandicapped with an opefield? That, however, seemed too much toexpect from any man. Then there was th

other explanation that he preferred teave the choice wholly to her lest h

should tempt her too strongly to breafaith with Gregory, which brought thblood to her face as it had done alreadysince it suggested that he fancied he haonly to urge her sufficiently and she woul

yield. There was, it seemed, nsatisfactory explanation at all. Only thfact remained that he had made her somewhat dispassionate offer of marriage

and had left her to decide, which she ha



done.

As it happened, Wyllard could not jus

hen, at least, have made the matter vermuch clearer. Shrewdly practical, as hwas, in some respects, there were timewhen he acted blindly, merely doin

without reasoning what he subconsciously felt was right. This had morhan once involved him in disaster, but is, perhaps, fortunate that there are other

ike him, for, after all, in the long run thfailures of such men now and then provbetter than the dictates of calculatinwisdom.

In any case, Agatha found a momentaryrelief from her thoughts as she watcheHawtrey get down from his waggon an



approach the house. The change in hiwas plainer than it had ever been, whicmay have been because she had now

standard of comparison. He was tall anwell-favoured, and he moved with aunty and yet not ungraceful swing; but i

almost seemed to her that this was merel

he result of an empty self-sufficiencyThere was, she felt, no force behind iwhich when the strain came would provhat jaunty bearing warranted. He wa

smiling, and for some reason his smilappeared a trifle inane, while there wacertainly a hint of sensuousness in hi

face. It suggested that the man might sinnto self-indulgent coarseness. Shehowever, remembered that she was stilpledged to him, and determinedly brushe

hese thoughts aside, until she heard hi



footsteps inside the house, when shbecame possessed of a burning curiositas to what Wyllard had to say to him

which, however, remained unsatisfied.

In the meanwhile, Hawtrey entered room where Wyllard sat awaiting hi

with a paper in his hand.

"I asked you to drive over here becaust would save time," he said. "I have to g

n to the railroad at once. Here's a draft ohe scheme I suggested. You had better tel

me if there's anything you're not quitsatisfied with."

He threw the paper on the table, anHawtrey, who took it up, perused it.



"I'm to farm and generally manage thRange on your behalf," he said. "Mpercentage to be deducted after harves

'm empowered to sell out grain or horseas appears advisable, and to have the usof teams and implements for my owplace when occasion requires it."

He looked up. "I've no fault to find withe thing, Harry. It's generous."

"Then you had better sign it, and we'lget Hastings to witness it in a minute owo. In the meanwhile there's a thing

have to ask you. How do you stand i

regard to Miss Ismay?"

Hawtrey pushed his chair back noisily"That," he said, "is a subject on which I'



naturally not disposed to give you annformation. How does it concern you?

"In this way. Believing that youengagement must be broken off I askeMiss Ismay to marry me."

Hawtrey was clearly startled, but in moment or two he smiled.

"Of course," he said, "she wouldn't. As

matter of fact, our engagement isn't brokeoff. It's merely extended."

They looked at each other in silence fo

a moment or two, and there was a curiouhardness in Wyllard's eyes. Then Hawtrespoke again.

"In view of what you have just told m



why did you want to put me of all peopln charge of the Range?" he said.

"I'll be candid," said Wyllard. "For onhing, you held on when I was slipping ofhe trestle that day in British Columbia

For another, you'll make nothing of you

own holding, and if you run the Range as iought to be run it will put a good mandollars into your pocket, besides relievinme of a big anxiety. If you're to marry

Miss Ismay, I'd sooner she was madreasonably comfortable."

Hawtrey looked up with a flush in hi

face.

"Harry," he said, "this is extravagantlgenerous."



"Wait," said Wyllard; "there's a littlemore to be said. I can't be back before thfrost, and I may be away eighteen months

While I am away you will have a cleafield—and you must make the most of it. Iyou are not married when I come back shall ask Miss Ismay again. Now"—an

he glanced at his comrade steadily—"doehis stand in the way of your going on withe arrangement we have arrived at?"

There was a rather tense silence for moment or two, and then Hawtrey brokt.

"No," he said; "after all, there is nreason why it should do so. It has npractical bearing upon the other question.



Wyllard rose. "Well," he said, "if youwill call Allen Hastings in we'll get thihing fixed up."

The document was duly signed, and few minutes later Wyllard drove awaybut Mrs. Hastings contrived to have a few

words with Hawtrey before he did thsame.

"I've no doubt that Harry took you int

his confidence on a certain point," shsaid.

"Yes," admitted Hawtrey; "he did. I wa

a little astonished, besides feeling rathesorry for him. There is, however, reasoo believe that he'll soon get over it."



"You feel sure of that?" and MrsHastings smiled.

"Isn't it evident? If he had cared mucabout her he certainly wouldn't have gonaway."

"You mean you wouldn't?"

"No," said Hawtrey, "there's no doubt ohat."

His companion smiled again. "Well,she said drily, "I would like to think yowere right about Harry; it would be

relief to me."

Hawtrey, who said nothing furtherpresently drove away, and soon after h

did so Agatha approached Mrs. Hastings.



"There's something I must ask you," shsaid. "Has Gregory consented to takcharge of Wyllard's farm?"

"He has," said her companion in hedryest tone.

Agatha's face flushed, and there was flash in her eyes.

"Oh," she said, "it's almos

nsufferable!"

Then she turned and left Mrs. Hastingwithout another word.

She only saw Wyllard once again, andhat was when he called at the homestea

early one morning. He got down from th

waggon where Dampier sat, and shoo



hands with her and Allen and MrsHastings. Very few words were spokenand she could not remember what sh

said, but when he swung himself up agaiand the waggon jolted away into the whitprairie she went back to the house wither heart beating unpleasantly fast and

very curious feeling of depression.

CHAPTER XV.

THE BEACH.

For a fortnight after they reache



Vancouver Wyllard and Dampier werevery busy. They had various difficulties tocontend with, for while they would hav

preferred to slip away to sea as quietly apossible a British vessel's movements arfenced about with many formalities, anhey did not wish to ship a white man wh

could be dispensed with. Wyllard fanciedhere were sailormen and sealers i

Vancouver and down Puget Sound whowould have gone with him, but there waa certain probability of their discussinheir exploits afterwards in the saloon

ashore, which was about the last thing tha

he desired. It appeared essential that hshould avoid notoriety as much apossible.

He had further trouble about obtainin



provisions and general necessaries, foconsiderably more attention than the freeance sealers cared about was bein

bestowed upon the North just then, and hdid not desire to rouse the curiosity of thdealers as to why he was filling hiazaret up with Arctic stores. He obviated

hat difficulty by dividing his orderamong the whole of them, and buying aittle as possible. Dampier, however

proved an adept at the difficult businessand eventually the schooner Selache crepout from the Narrows at dusk one eveninunder all plain sail, painted a pale green

with her big main-boom raking at least fathom beyond her taffrail. There werhen Wyllard, Dampier, and two othe

white men on board her. A week later she

sailed into a deep, rock-walled inlet o



he western coast of Vancouver Islandwith a settlement at the top of it, where thstorekeeper made no difficulty abou

selling Wyllard all his flour and cannedgoods at higher figures than there was anprobability of his obtaining from the locaranchers.

Then the Selache slid down the inleagain, and lay for several days in a forestshrouded arm near the mouth of it, while

when she once more dropped her anchooff a Siwash rancherie far up on the wilWest coast, she was painted a dingy greyand her sawn-off boom just topped hestern. One does not want a great mainboom in the northern seas, and a bimainsail needs men to handle it. Wyllard

however, shipped several sea-bred



ndians who had made wonderful perilouvoyages on the trail of the seal and halibun open canoes. All of them had, as i

happened, also sailed in sealinschooners. Their comrades sold him fursand filled part of the hold up witredwood billets and bark for the stove, fo

he had not considered it advisable to loaoo much Wellington coal. Then he pushed

out into the waste Pacific, and when onca beautiful big white mail boat reeled bhim, driving with streaming bows into aeasterly gale, he sent back a message this friends upon the prairie. It dul

reached them, for some three weekafterwards Allen Hastings, opening Th

Colonist , which he had ordered froVictoria as soon as Wyllard sailed, read

out to his wife and Agatha a paragraph i



he shipping news:

" Empress of India, from Yokohama

reports having passed small grey Britisschooner, flying——" There followedseveral code letters, the latitude anongitude, and a line apparently by th

water-front reporter: "No schoonebelonging to this city allotted the signal iquestion."

Hastings smiled as he laid down thpaper. "No," he said, "that signal'Wyllard's private code. Agatha, won't youreach me down my map of the Pacific? It'

ust behind you."

Then he looked round, and noticed thsignificant smile in his wife's eyes, for th



girl had already turned towards the shelwhere he kept the lately purchased map.

The easterly gale, however, did not lastfor the wind came out of the west annorth, and sank to foggy calms when it dinot blow wickedly hard. This meant tha

he Selache's course was all to windwardand though they drove her at iunmercifully under reefed boom-foresaimain trysail, and a streaming jib or two

with the brine going over her soliforward, she had made little when eacarduous day was done. They werdrenched to the skin continuously, andashed by stinging spray. Cooking excep

of the crudest kind was out of the questionand sleep would have been impossible t

any but worn-out sailormen. Even then



hey were often roused in the blackness ohe night, when she lay with her lee rai

under, and would not lift it out, to ge

another reef in, or crawl out on plunginbowsprit washed by icy seas to haul burst jib down. It was even more tryingglad as they were of the respite in som

respects, to lie rolling wildly on the bismooth undulations that hove out of thwindless calm, while everything in hebanged to and fro, and when the breezcame screaming through the fog or raihey sprang to make sail again.

Fate seemed dead against them, as it wacertain that, if their purpose wasuspected, the hand of every white mahey might come across would be; but the

held on over leagues of empty ocea



while the season wore away, until oncmore the wind freshened easterly, and theran for a week under boom-foresail and

ib, with the big grey combers curling ahey foamed by high above her rail. Thehe wind fell, and Dampier, who got an

observation, armed his deep-sea lead, an

finding shells and shoal water came aft talk to Wyllard with the strip of Dunton'

chart.

Wyllard, who was clad in oilskinsstood, a shapeless figure, by the wheewith his face darkened and roughened bcold and stinging brine. There was aopen sore upon one of his elbows, anboth his wrists were raw. Forward, white man and two Siwash were standin

about the windlass, and when the bow



went up a dreary stretch of slate-grey seopened up beyond them beneath thdripping jibs. Then the bows would g

down again, and all that was visible wahe fore-shortened slope of deck and th

breast of the big undulation that hove itselup ahead. The Selache was carryin

everything and lurching over the steeswell at some four knots an hour.

Dampier stopped near the wheel, an

glanced at Wyllard's oilskins.

"You'll have to take them off. It's stuffedboots and those Indian seal-gut things o

furs from now on," he said. "That leathecuff's chewing up your hand."

"We'll cut that out," said Wyllard; "it's



not to the point. Can't you get on?"

Dampier grinned. "We're on soundings

and they and Dunton's longitude mosagree. With this wind we should pick thbeach up in the next two days. Nexquestion is, where those men were?"

"Where they are," said Wyllard.

"If they've pushed on it's probably

different thing, though if they'd fooyonder I don't quite see why they'd want tpush on anywhere. It wouldn't be southanyway. They'd run up against th

Russians there."

"We've decided that already."

"I'm admitting it," said the skipper



"There's the other choice that they've gonup north. It's narrower across to Alaskhere, and it's quite likely they might hav

a notion of looking out for one of thsteam whalers. The Koriaks up yondewill have boats of some kind. If they'rskin ones like those the Huskies have the

might sledge them on the ice."

It was a suggestion that had been madseveral times already, but both the me

realised that there was in all probabilitvery little to warrant it. Wyllard hadwasted no time endeavouring to learwhat was known about the desolation ohe western shore of the Behring Sea. H

had bought a schooner and set out at oncet, however, appeared almost impossibl

o him that any three men could haul th



skin boats and supplies they would neefar over hummocky ice.

"The point is that we'll have to fix osome course in the next few days," addehis companion. "Say we run in to maknquiries"—and a gleam of gri

amusement crept into his eyes—"what arwe going to find? A beach with a roaringsurf on it, and if we get a boat through, desolate, half-frozen swamp behind it. It'

quite likely there are people in thcountry, Koriaks or Kamtchadales, but ihere are they'll probably move up an

down after what they get to eat like thHuskies do, and we can't hang on and waifor them. Most any time next month we'lhave the ice closing in."



Wyllard said nothing for another minuteand as he stood with hands clenched ohe wheel a little puff of bitter spra

splashed upon his oilskins. They had beeover it all often before, weighinconjecture after conjecture, and had founnothing in any that might serve to guid

hem. Now, when winter was close ahand, they had leagues of surf-swepbeach to search for three men who mighhave perished twelve months earlier.

"We'll stand in until we pick up thebeach," he said at length; "then if there'no sign of them we'll push north as long awe can find open water. Now if you'll calCharly I'll let up at the wheel."

Another white man walked aft, an



Wyllard, entering the little stern cabin, thop of which rose some feet above th

deck, sloughed off his wet oilskins an

crawled, dressed as he was, into his bunkEvening was closing in, and for awhile hay blinking at the swinging lamp, an

wondering what the end of that searc

would be. The Selache was a little forand aft schooner of some ninety-odd tonswholly unprotected against ice-chafe onip, and he knew that prudence dictateheir driving her south under every rag o

canvas now. There was, however, thepossibility of finding some sheltered inle

where she could lie out the winter, frozen, and he had, at least, blind confidencn his men. The white men were sealer

who had already borne the lash of snow

aden gales, the wash of icy seas, an



remendous labour at the oar, while thndians had been born to an unendin

struggle with the waters. All of them had

imes and times again looked the King oTerrors squarely in the face. What was amuch to the purpose, they had beepromised a tempting bonus if the Selach

came home successful.

While Wyllard pondered upon theshings he went to sleep, and slept soundly

as he did the next night, though Dampieexpected to raise the beach some time nexmorning. His expectation also provewarranted, and when Wyllard turned out iay before them, a dingy smear on a slate

green sea that was cut off from it by wavy line of livid whiteness, which h

knew to be a fringe of spouting surf. It ha



cost him in several ways more than hcared to contemplate to reach that beachand now there was nothing that coul

excite any feeling except shrinking in thdreary spectacle. There was little light ihe heavy sky or on the sullen heave o

sea; the air was raw, the schooner's deck

were sloppy, and she rolled viciously ashe crept shorewards with her mainsaipeak eased down. What wind there wablew dead on-shore, which was not as hwould have had it.

He heard the splash of the lead as he anhe white man Charly made their breakfasn the little stern cabin. Then there was

clatter of blocks, and on coming out agaihe found the others swinging a boat over

Charly and he and two of the Indian



dropped into her, and Dampier, who hadhove the schooner to, looked down ohem over her rail.

"If you knock the bottom out of her put acket on an oar, and I'll try to bring you

off," he said. "If you don't signal I'll stan

off and on with a thimble-header topsaiover the mainsail. You'll start back righaway if you see us haul it down. When shwon't stand that there'll be more surf tha

you'll have any use for with the wind deaon the beach."

Wyllard made a sign of comprehension

and they slid away on the back of a lonsea. Others rolled up behind them, cuttinoff the schooner's hull so that only hegrey canvas showed above dim slopes o



water, but there was no curl on any andhe beach rose fast. It looked ver

forbidding with the spray-haze driftin

over it, and the long wash of the Pacifiweltering among its hammered stones, anwhen they drew a little nearer Wyllardstood up with the big sculling oar in hi

hand. There was no point to offer shelterand in only one place could he see a stripof surf-lapped sand.

"It's a little softer than the bouldersanyway; we'll try it there," he said.

The oars dipped again, and in anothe

minute or two the sea that came up behinhem hove them high and broke into a littl

spout of foam. The next had a hissincrest, part of which splashed on board



and they went shorewards like a toboggadown an icy slide on the shoulders of thhird. To keep her straight while it seethed

about them was all that they could do, but was also essentially necessary, and fo

a moment their hearts were in their mouthwhen it left them to sink with a dizz

swing into the hollow. Then they pulleddesperately as another white-topped ridgcame on astern, and went up with it amidsa chaotic frothing and splashing and a hazof spray. After that there was a shock anda crash, and they sprang out knee-deep anheld fast to the boat while the foam boile

nto her, floundering and stumbling ovesliding sand. Still, before the next secame in they had run her up beyond itreach, and there did not seem to be muc

he matter with her when they hove he



over. Wyllard, however, looked back ahe tumbling surf.

"Dampier was right about that topsail; iwon't be quite as easy getting off," he said"You'll stand by, Charly, and watch theschooner. If the surf gets steeper you ca

make some sign. I'll leave one of thSiwash on the rise yonder."

Then he walked up the beach, an

stopped awhile on the crest of the low risa mile or two behind it, gazing out at whaseemed to be an empty desolation. Therwere willows in the hollow beneath him

and upon the slope a few little stunterees, which he fancied resembled thuniper he had seen among the ranges o

British Columbia, but he could see no sig



of any kind of life. What was morportentous, the mossy sod he stood upowas frozen, and there were smears o

snow among the straggling firs upon rather higher ridge. Inland, the littlbreeze seemed to have fallen dead awayand there was an oppressive silenc

which the rumble of the surf accentuated.

He left an Indian on the rise, and goinon with the other scrambled through

half-frozen swamp in the hollow; buwhen they came back hours afterwards ahe narrow horizon was drawing further ihey had found nothing to show that an

man had ever entered that grim, silenand. The surf seemed a little smoother

and they reeled out through it with n

more than a few inches of very cold wate



splashing about their boots, and pulleacross a long stretch of darkening seowards the rolling schooner.

Wyllard was a little weary, and moredepressed, but it was not until he sat in thstern cabin with its cheerful twinklin

stove and swinging lamp that hunderstood how he had shrunk from thaforbidding wilderness. His consultatiowith Dampier, who came in by and bye

was very brief.

"We'll head north for a couple of daysand try again," he said.

He crawled into his berth early, and iwas some time after midnight when hwas awakened by being rudely flung ou



of it. That fact, and the slant of deck ansounds above, suggested that the schoonehad been hove down by a sudden gale. H

had, however, grown more or lesaccustomed to occurrences of this kinand to sleeping fully dressed, and ianother moment or two he was out of th

deck-house. Then a wind that seemesharp as steel drove stinging flakes osnow into his face. It was very dark, buhe fancied that the schooner's rail was ihe sea, which was washing over her t

weather, and that some of the others werstruggling to get the mainsail off her. The

a man whom he supposed to be Charly ranto him.

"Better come for'ard. Got to haul oute

ib down before it blows away," he said.



Wyllard staggered after him up to hiknees in water, and made out by the madbanging that some of them had already cas

he peak of the boom-foresail loose. Thehe reached the windlass, and clutched it aa sea that took him to the waist frothed iover the weather rail. The bows lurche

out of it viciously, hurling another icflood back on him, and he could see a diwhite chaos about and beneath them. Ovet rose the black wedge of the jibs.

He did not want to get out along thbowsprit to stop one of them downndeed his whole physical nature shran

from it, but there are many things flesh anblood shrink from which must be faced asea. Then he made out that a Siwash wa

fumbling at the down-haul made fast nea



his side, and when his companion'shadowy figure rose up against thwhiteness of the foam he made a jum

forward. Then he was on the bowspritying upon it while he felt for the foot

rope slung beneath. He found it, and wacautiously lowering himself when the ma

n front of him called out harshly, and hsaw a white sea range up ahead. It brokshort over with a rush and roar, and hclung with hands and feet for his life ahe schooner's dipping bows rammed th

seething mass.

She went into it to the windlass. He wasmothered in an icy flood that seemed benon wrenching him from his hold, but thawas only for a moment or two, and then h

was swung, gasping and streaming wit



water, high above the sea again. It wabad enough merely to hold on, but that waa very small share of his task, for the bi

black sail that cut the higher darknescame rattling down its stay and fell upohim and his companion bodily. As idropped the wind took hold of the folds o

t and buffeted them cruelly. This was hing he had once been accustomed to, bu

as he clutched at the canvas it seemed thim incredible that he had not alreadbeen flung off headlong from the reelinspar. Still, that banging, thrashing canvamust be mastered somehow, though it wa

snow-soaked and almost unyielding, anhe clawed at it furiously with bleedinhands while twice the bowsprit raked sea and dipped him waist-deep in. A

ength the other man flung him the end o



he gasket, and they worked baccarefully, leaving the sail lashed downand scrambled aft to help the others wh

were making the big main-boom fasWhen this was done Wyllard fell againsDampier and clutched at him.

"How's the wind?" he roared.

"North-east," said the skipper.

They could scarcely hear each otherhough the schooner was lurching over i

more easily now with shortened canvasand Wyllard only made Dampie

understand that he wished to speak to hiby thrusting him towards the deck-housdoor. They went in together, and stoodclutching at the table with the lamplight o



heir tense, wet faces and the brine that rafrom them making pools upon the deck.

"It's hauled round," said the skipper, "thwrong way."

Wyllard made a savage gesture. "We've

had it from the last quarter we wanteever since we sailed, and we sailenearly three months too late. We're tooclose in to the beach for you to heave he

o?"

"A sure thing," said the other. "I wadriving her to work off it with the se

getting up when the breeze burst on usShe put her rail right under, and we had toet go most everything before she'd pick i

up. She's pointing somewhere north



ammed right up on the starboard tack jusnow, but I can't stand on."

This was evident to Wyllard, and hclosed one hand tight. He wanted to stanon as long as possible before the icclosed in, but he realised that to do s

would put the schooner ashore.

"Well?" he said sharply.

Dampier made a grimace. "I'm going ouo heave her round. If we'd any sense in u

we'd square off the boom then, and leg iaway across the Pacific for Vancouver."

"In that case," said Wyllard, "somebodwould lose his bonus."

Dampier swung round on him with



flash in his eyes.

"The bonus!" he said. "Who was it cam

for you with two dollars in his pockeafter he'd bought his ticket froVancouver?"

Wyllard smiled at him. "If you took thaup the wrong way I'm sorry. She ought towork off on the port tack, and when we'vopen water to leeward you can heave he

o. When it moderates we can pick up thbeach again."

"That's just what I mean to do."

Then Dampier went out on deck, whilWyllard, flinging off his dripping clothingcrawled into his bunk and went quietly t



sleep.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE FIRST ICE.

Daylight broke on a frothing sea, acroswhich there scudded wisps of smoke-likdrift and thin showers of snow, beforhey hove her to. Then, with two little we

rags of canvas set she lay almost head oo the big combers, and met their onslaugh

with a hove-up weather bow. Having littl

way upon her, she lurched over instead o



ramming them, and though now and theone curled on board across her rail it wanot often that there was much heavy wate

upon her slanted deck.

All round the narrow circle a leaden skmet the sea. To weather the combers were

bitten into it in cleancut serrations, but teeward the dim horizon was blurred b

flying spray, save when the snow whirleddown in thicker wisps and blotted it ou

altogether. It was bitterly cold, and thspray stung the skin like half-spent pelletfrom a gun. There was, however, only onman exposed to it in turn, and he had littlo do but brace himself against the savag

buffeting of the wind as he clutched thwheel. The Selache, for the most par

steered herself, lifting buoyantly while th



froth came sluicing aft from her tiltebows, falling off a little with a vicioueeward roll when a comber bigger tha

usual smote her to weather, and coming upagain streaming to meet the nexSometimes she forged ahead in what icalled at sea, by courtesy, a "smooth," and

all the time shroud and stay to weathegave out tumultuous harmonies, and thslack of every rope to leeward blew out iunyielding curves.

In the meanwhile, three of the white meay sleeping or smoking in the little cabin

which was partly raised above and partlsunk beneath the after-deck. It was reasonably strong structure, but it workedand sweated, as they say at sea, and th

heat of the stove had further opened up th



seams of it. Moisture dripped from thbeams overhead, moisture trickled up andown the slanting deck, there were grea

globules of it on the bulk-heading, aneverything, including the men's clothes anblankets, was wet. They lay in their bunkfrom necessity, because it was

somewhat laborious matter to sit, and saivery little since it was difficult to heaanything amidst the cataclysm of elementasound. Indeed, it became at length almosa relief to turn out into inky darkness omisty daylight dimmed by flying spray take a trick at the jarring wheel.

For three days this continued, and thenwhen the gale broke and a little palsunshine streamed down on the tumblin

sea, changing the grey combers to flashin



white and green, they gave her a doublereefed mainsail, part of the boom-foresaiand a jib or two, and thrashed her slowl

back to the northwards on the starboarack. Still, more than one of them glance

over the taffrail longingly as she gathereway. She was fast, and with a littl

driving and that breeze over her quarteshe would bear them south towardwarmth and ease at some two hundremiles a day, while the way they wergoing it would be a fight for every fathowith bitter, charging seas, and there laahead of them only cold and peril and toi

ncredible.

There are times at sea when humanature revolts from the strain the over

axed body must bear, the leade



weariness of worn-out limbs, and the subconscious effort to retain warmth anvitality in spite of the ceaseless lashing o

he icy gale. Then, as aching muscles growax, the nervous tension becomes mornsupportable, unless, indeed, utte

weariness breeds indifference to th

personal peril each time the decks arswept by a frothing flood, or a slipperspar must be clung to with frost-numbeand often bleeding hands. That is, at leaston board the sailing ships where man musstill, with almost brutal valour, pit all thfeeble powers of flesh and blood agains

he forces of the elements.

They knew this, and it was to their credihat they obeyed when Dampier gave th

word to put the helm up and trim th



sheets over. Their leader, however, stooda little apart with a hard-set face, and hooked forward over the plunging bows

for he was troubled by a sense oresponsibility such as he had not felt sinche had, one night several years ago, askefor volunteers. He realised that an accoun

of these men's lives might be demandefrom him.

It was a fortnight later, and they had

wice made a perilous landing withoufinding any sign of life on or behind thhammered beach, when they ran into thfirst of the ice. The grey day was almosover, and the long heave ran sluggishlafter them faintly wrinkled here and therewhen creeping through a belt of haze the

came into sight of several blurrs o



greyish white that swung with the dimgreen swell. The Selache was slowlurching over it with everything aloft t

he topsails then. Dampier glanced at thce disgustedly.

"Earlier than I expected," he said

"Anyway, it's a sure thing there's plentymore where that came from."

"Big patch away to starboard!" cried

man in the foremast shrouds.

Dampier turned to Wyllard. "What aryou going to do?"

"What's most advisable?"

The skipper laughed grimly. "Well," he

said, "that's quite simple. Get out of this



and head her south just as soon as we canbut I guess that's not quite what you mean.

"No," admitted Wyllard. "I meant for thnext few hours or so. In a general waywe're still pushing on."

"Then I'm not worrying much aboupushing her through. That ice is light anscattered, and as she's going it won't hurher much if she plugs some in the dark. It'

what we're going to do the next two week'm not sure about. If there's ice we mayn

fetch the creek the chart shows wherwe'd figured on laying her up in. It's stil

most a hundred miles to the north of usThe other inlet I'd fixed on is way furthesouth."



This brought them back to the difficulthey had grappled with at many a counci

The men they were in search of might hav

gone either north or south; or they mighthough this seemed less likely, have gonnland, if, indeed, any of them survived.

"If we only knew how they'd headed,said Wyllard quietly. "Still, right or not'm for pushing on."

Then Charly, who held the wheel, brokn.

"I guess it's north," he said. "They'd hav

no use for fetching up among the Russiansand there's nobody else until you get tJapan. No white men, any way. Besidesfrom the Behring Sea to the Kuriles i



quite a long way."

"If you were dumped down ashore there

which way would you go?" Dampieasked.

"If I'd a wallet full of papers certifyin

me as a harmless traveller, it would bsouth just as hard as I could hit the traiGuess I'd strike somebody ouprospecting, or surveying, and they'd se

me along to the Kuriles. Still, if I'd beesealing, I wouldn't head that way. No, sirThat's dead sure."

There was a reason for this certaintyright or wrong, in the minds of thsealermen. How many of the skins thebrought home were obtained in ope



water where they could fish withoumolestation they alone knew; but thewere regarded in certain quarters a

poachers and outlaws, who deserved nmercy. They had their differences with thAmericans who owned the Prbyloffs, buhe latter, it was admitted, had bought th

slands, and might reasonably bconsidered to have some claim upon thseals which frequented them. The freeances bore their execrations and reprisal

more or less resignedly, though that didnot prevent them occasionally exchangincompliments with oar butts or sealin

clubs, but the Muscovite was a grimmysterious figure they feared and hated.

"Then you'd have tried up north?

Wyllard suggested.



"Sure," said the helmsman. "If I'd a boaand a rifle, and it was summer, I'd havpushed across for Alaska. You can ea

birds and walrus, and a man might eat fur-seal if he'd had nothing else for week, though I've struck nothing that hamore smell than the holluschack blubber

f it was winter, I'd have tried the ice. ThHuskies make out on it for weeks togetherand quite a few of the steam whaler mehave trailed an odd hundred or two mileover it one time or another. They hadnents and dog-teams either."

Wyllard's face grew grave. He hadnaturally considered both courses, and hadecided that they were out of the questionSeas do not freeze up solid, and that thre

men should transport a boat, supposin



hat they had one, over leagues of icappeared impossible. An attempt to croshe narrow sea, which is either wrappe

n mist or swept by sudden gales, in anopen craft would clearly only result idisaster, but admitting that he felt that hadhe been in those men's place he woul

have headed north. There was onquestion which had all along remaineunanswered, and that was how they hareached the coast from which they hasent their message.

"Anyway," he said, "we'll stand on, andrun into the creek we've fixed on, if it'necessary."

In the meanwhile, dusk had closed dowon them, and it had grown perceptibl



colder. The haze crystallised on thrigging, the rail was white with rime, anhe deck grew slippery, but they lef

everything on her to the topsails, and shcrept on erratically through the darknessavoiding the faint spectral glimmer of thscattered ice. The breeze abeam propelle

her with gently leaning canvas at somfour knots to the hour, and now and theWyllard, who hung about the deck thanight, fancied he could hear a thin, sharpcrackle beneath the slowly lifting bows.

Next day the haze thickened, and therseemed to be more ice about, but thbreeze was fresher, and there was, aeast, no skin upon the ruffled sea. Theook the topsails off her, and proceeded

cautiously, with two men with logger'



pikepoles forward, and another in the eyeof the foremast rigging. As it happenedhey struck nothing, and when night cam

h e Selache lay rolling in a heavyportentous calm. Dampier and one or twof the others declared their certainty thahere was ice near them, but, at least, the

could not see it, though there was now ndoubt about the crackling beneath thschooner's side. It was a somewhaanxious night for most of them, but breeze that drove the haze aside got uwith the sun, and Dampier expected treach the creek before darkness fell.

He might have done it but for thglistening streak on the horizon, whicpresently crept in on them, and resolve

tself into detached grey-white masses



with openings of various sizes in and oubetween them. The breeze was fresheningand the Selache going through it at som

six knots, when Dampier came aft tWyllard, who was standing rather grim iface at the wheel. There was a moderatelwide opening in the floating barrier clos

ahead of him. The rest of the crew stoosilent watching the skipper, for they werby this time more or less acquainted witWyllard's temperament.

"You can't get through that," saidDampier, pointing to the ice.

Wyllard looked at him sourly, and thewhite men, at least, understood what hwas feeling. So far, he had had everythinagainst him—calm, and fog, and sudde



gale—and now, when he was almoswithin sight of the end of the first stage ohis journey, they had met the ice.

"You're sure of that?" he said.

Dampier smiled. "It would cost to

much, or I'd let you try." He called to thman perched high in the foremast shroudsand the answer came down:

"Packed right solid a couple of mileahead."

Wyllard lifted one hand, and let i

suddenly fall again.

"Lee, oh! We'll have her round," he saidand spun the wheel.



The rest of them breathed more easily ahey jumped for the sheets, and with

great banging and thrashing of sailclot

she shot up to windward, and turned as oa pivot. Then, as she gathered way on thother tack, they glanced at their leader, foher bows were pointing to the south-eas

again. They felt that was not the way hwas going.

In the meanwhile, Wyllard turned to

Dampier with a little wry smile.

"Baulked again!" he said. "It would havbeen a relief to have rammed her in. Wit

his breeze we'd have picked that creek upn the next six hours."

"Sure!" said Dampier, who glanced a



he swirling wake.

"Then, if we can't get through it we ca

work her round. Stand by to flatten alsheets in, boys."

They did it cheerfully, though they knew

t meant a thrash to windward along thperilous edge of the ice, and, for the sewas getting up, she flung the spray all oveher forward half as she smashed th

growing combers with her bows. Soon thwindlass was caked with glistening iceand long spikes of it hung from her raiwhile the slippery crystals gathered thic

on deck. Then lumps and floes of icdetached themselves from the parent massand sailed out to meet her, crashing on onanother, while it seemed to the men who



watched him that Wyllard tried howclosely he could shave them before he rahe schooner off with a vicious drag at th

wheel. None of them, however, cared tosay a word to him.

They brought her round when she ha

stretched out on the one tack a couple omiles, and standing in again close-haulefound the ice thicker than ever. Then shcame round once more, and until the earl

dusk fell Wyllard stood at the jarring helor high up in the forward shrouds. Then hcalled Dampier aside.

"We can't work along the edge in thedark?" he said.

"Well," said Dampier drily, "it wouldn'



be wise. We could stand on as she's lyinguntil half through the night, and then comround and pick up the ice again a littl

before sun-up."

Wyllard made a sign of acquiescence"Then," he said, "don't call me until you'r

n sight of it. A day of this kind takes it ouof one."

He moved aft heavily towards the deck

house, and Dampier watched him with smile of comprehension, for he was a mawho had also in his time made manfruitless efforts, and quietly faced defeat

After all, it is possible that when the finareckoning comes some failures will count

For several hours the Selache stretche



out close-hauled into what they supposeo be open water, and they certainly saw

no ice. Then they hove her to, and whe

he wind fell light brought her round ancrept back slowly upon the opposite tackWyllard had gone to sleep in thmeanwhile, and daylight was just breakin

when he next went out on deck. There wascarcely an air of wind, and the heavcalm seemed portentous and unnaturaThe schooner lay lurching on a sluggisswell, with the frost wool thick on herigging, and a belt of haze ahead of herOn the edge of it, the ice glimmered in th

growing light, but in one or two placestretches of blue-grey water seemed tpenetrate it, and Dampier, who strode afwhen he saw Wyllard, said he fancied

here must be an opening somewhere.



"By the thickness of it, that ice haformed some time, and as we've seenothing but a skin it must have come fro

further north," he added. "It gathered uunder a point or in a bay most likely, untia shift of wind broke it out, and the streaor breeze set it down this way. That seem

o indicate that there can't be a great deaof it, but a few days' calm and frost woulfreeze it solid."

"Well?" said Wyllard impatiently.

"It lies between us and the inlet, and it'quite clear that we can't stay where w

are. Once we got nipped, there'd probablbe an end of her. We have got to get intohat inlet at once or make for the othe

further south."



Wyllard smiled. "It all leads back to thsame point. We must get through the iceThe one question is—how's it to b

done?"

"With a working breeze I'd stand into thbiggest opening, but as there's none we'l

wait until it clears a little, and then send boat in. The sun may bring the wind."

They made breakfast in the meanwhile

but the wind did not come, and it wasome hours later when a pale copperdisc became visible and the haze grewhinner. Then they swung a boat ou

hastily, for it would not be very lonbefore the light died away again, and twwhite men and an Indian dropped into herThey pulled across half a mile o



sluggishly heaving water, crept up aopening, and presently vanished among thce. Soon afterwards the low sun went out

and wisps of ragged cloud crept up frohe westwards, while smears of vapou

blurred the horizon, and the swell grewsteeper. There was no wind at all, bu

blocks and canvas banged and thrashefuriously at every roll, until they lowerehe mainsail and lashed its heavy boom the big iron crutch astern. The boa

remained invisible, but its crew had beegiven instructions to push on as far apossible if they found clear water, and

Dampier, who did not seem uneasy abouher, paced up and down the deck while thafternoon wore away.



CHAPTER XVII.

DEFEAT.

A grey dimness was creeping in upon thschooner when a little bitter breeze spranup from westwards, and Dampier bad

hem get the mainsail on to her.

"I don't like the look of the weather, and'm beginning to feel that I'd like to sehat boat," he said. "Anyhow, we'll ge

way on her."

It was a relief to hoist the mainsail. Th



work put a little warmth into them, and thwhite men, at least, had been conscious oa growing uneasiness about thei

comrades in the boat. The breeze hadhowever, freshened before they set it, andhere were white caps on the water whehe Selache headed for the ice. It ha

somewhat changed its formation whehey approached it, for big masses ha

become detached from it and were movinout into the open water, while the openinhad become perceptibly narrower. Thight was now fading rapidly, and Wyllardook the wheel when Dampier sent th

man there forward.

"Get the cover off the second boat, ansee everything clear for hoisting out," h

said to him, and then called to Wyllard



"We're close enough. You'd better heaveher round."

She came round with a thrashing ocanvas, stretched out seawards, and camback again with her deck sharply slanteand little puffs of bitter spray blowin

over her weather rail, for there was ndoubt that the breeze was freshening fasThen Dampier sent a man up into thforemast shrouds, and looked at Wyllard

afterwards.

"I'd heave a couple of reefs down if wasn't so anxious about that blamed boat,

he said. "As it is, I want to be ready tpick her up just as soon as we see her, andt's quite likely she'd turn up when we'

got way off the schooner, and the pea



eased down."

Wyllard fancied that he was right as h

glanced over the rail at the dimness thawas creeping in on them. It was blowinalmost fresh now, and the Selache wadriving very fast through the swell, whic

commenced to froth here and there. It isas he knew from experience, always harwork, and often impossible, to pull a boao windward in any weight of breeze

which rendered it advisable to keep thschooner under way. If the boat drove bhem while they were reefing it might b

difficult to pick her up afterwards in thdark. He was now distinctly anxious abouher. At length, just as the light was dyingout, the man in the shrouds sent down

cry.



"I see them, sir," he said.

Dampier turned to Wyllard with

gesture of relief. "That's a weight off mmind. I wish we had a reef in, but"—anhe glanced up at the canvas—"she'll havo stand it. Anyway, I'll leave you there

We want to get that second boat lasheddown again."

This, as Wyllard recognised, wa

necessary, though he would sooner havhad somebody by him, and the rest of theready to let the mainsheet run, for he waa little to windward of the opening, an

surmised that he would have to run thschooner down upon the boat. It was few moments later when he saw heemerge from among the ice, and the men i



her appeared to be pulling strenuouslyThey were, perhaps, half a mile off, anhe schooner was sailing very fast an

heading for the ice. Then he lost sight oher again, for a thin shower of whirlinsnow suddenly obscured the lighDampier called to him.

"You'll have to run her off," he said"Boys, slack out your sheets."

There was a clatter of blocks, and wheWyllard pulled his helm up it taxed all histrength. The Selache swung round, and hgasped with the effort to control her as sh

drove away furiously into the thickeninsnow. She was carrying far too muccanvas, but they could not heave her tand take it off her now. The boat must b



picked up first, and the veins rose swolleo Wyllard's forehead as he struggled withhe wheel. There is always a certai

possibility of bringing a fore-and-afrigged vessel's mainboom over when shs running hard, and this is rather apt t

result in disaster to her spars. So fast wa

she travelling that the sea piled up in a biwhite wave beneath her quarter, and, coldas it was, the sweat of tense effort drippefrom Wyllard as he forecasted what hhad to do. First of all, he must hold hestraight before the wind without letting hefall off to leeward, which would bring th

booms crashing over; then he must rupast the boat, which he could no longesee, and round the schooner up with forestaysail aback to leeward of her, to wai

until she drove down on them.



This would not have been difficult in moderate breeze, but the wind wafreshening furiously and the schooner wa

horribly pressed with sail. He thought ocalling the others to lower the mainsaipeak, but with the weight of wind therwas in the canvas he was not sure that the

could haul the gaff down. Besides, thewere busy securing the boat, which musbe made fast again before they hove thother in, and it was almost dark now. Iview of what had happened in the samwaters one night four years ago, the desiro pick the boat up while there was a littl

ight left became an obsession.

In the meanwhile, the swell was rapidlwhitening and getting steeper. Th

Selache hove herself out of it forward a



she swung up with streaming bows. Ialmost seemed to Wyllard that he musoverrun the boat before he noticed her, bu

at length he saw Dampier swing himselon to the rail. He stood there clutching at shroud, and presently turned towardWyllard, swinging up an arm.

"Right ahead!" he shouted. "Let her comup a few points before you run over them.

Wyllard put his helm down a spoke owo, which was easy, and then as th

bows swung high again there was a harscry from the man who stood abov

Dampier in the shrouds.

"Ice!" he roared. "Big pack of it righunder your weather bow."



Dampier shouted something, but Wyllarddid not hear what he said. He was onlconscious that he had to decide what h

must do in the next few seconds. If he lehe Selache come up to avoid the boathere was the ice ahead, and at the spee

she was travelling it would infallibl

crush her bows in, while if he held hestraight there was the boat close in front oher. To swing her clear of both by going teeward he must bring the mainsail an

boom-foresail over with a tremendoushock, but that seemed preferable, anwith his heart in his mouth he pulled hi

helm up.

He fancied he cried out in warning, buwas never sure of it, though three me

came running to seize the mainsheet. Th



schooner fell off a little, swinging until thboom-foresail came over with hunderous bang and crash. She rolle

down, heaving a wide strip of weplanking out of the sea, and now for moment or two there were great breadthof canvas swung out on either hand. The

he ponderous mainboom went up higabove his head, and he saw three shadowfigures dragged aft as they tried in vain tsteady it. The big mainsail was buncheup, a vast, portentous shape above himand then he set his lips, and pulled up thhelm another spoke as it swung. He neve

quite knew what happened after thaThere was a horrible crash, and thschooner appeared to be rolling ovebodily. The spokes he clung to desperatel

reft themselves from his grasp, the dec



slanted until one could not stand upon itand something heavy struck him on thhead. He dropped, and Dampier flun

himself upon the wheel above hisenseless body.

Then there was mad confusion, and

frantic banging of canvas as the schoonecame up beam to the wind, with her renmainsail flogging itself to tatters. Itponderous boom was broken, and th

mainmast-head had gone, but it was nohe first time the sealermen had grapple

with somewhat similar difficulties, anDampier kept his head. He had the boat think of, and she was somewhere t

windward, hidden in the sudden darknesand the turmoil of the quickly rising sea

but in the meanwhile the schooner counte



most of all. His crew could scarcely heahim through the uproar the thunderincanvas made, and the screaming of th

wind, but the orders were given, and frohabit and the custom of their calling theknew what they must be.



They hauled a jib down, backed thfore-staysail, and got the boom-foresaisheeted in, but they let the rent mainsai

bang, for it could do no more damage that had already done. Then a man sprang u

on the rail with a blue light in his handand as the weird radiance flared in a lon

streak to leeward a cry rose from thwater. In another few moments a blurredobject, half hidden in flying spray, drovdown upon the schooner furiously on thop of a sea, and then there was sudde

darkness as the man flung down the flare.

Another harsh and half-heard cry rosout of the obscurity. An indistinguishableobject plunged past the schooner's sternhere was a crash to leeward as sh

rolled, and a man standing up in the boa



clutched her rail. He was swung out of ias she rolled back again, but he crawleon to the rail with a rope in one hand, an

after jamming it fast round somethinsprang down with the hooks of the liftinackles which one of the rest had give

him. Then, while two more me

scrambled up, there was a clatter oblocks, but a shattered sea struck the boaas they hove her dear, and when shswung in the brine poured out through thrents in her. Dampier waved an arm ahey dropped her on the deck, and the

heard him faintly.

"Boys," he said, "you have got to cut thamainsail down."

They did it somehow, hanging on to th



mast-hoops, buffeted and now and theenveloped by the madly flogging canvasfloundering below amidst a raffle of falle

gear, while the bitter spray lashed themand the broken boom held up by the clewring banged savagely to and fro. After thahey trimmed her fore-staysail over, and

here was by contrast a curious quietnesas Dampier jammed his helm up, and thschooner swung off before the sea. Thesomebody lighted a lantern, and Charlstooped over Wyllard, who lay limp andstill beside the wheel. His face showegrey in the feeble light, save where

broad red stain had spread across iDampier cast a glance at him.

"Get him below, and into his bunk, two

of you," he said.



They did it with difficulty, for thSelache lurched viciously each time white-topped sea came up upon he

quarter, and as soon as it seemedadvisable to leave the deck Dampier wendown. Wyllard lay in his bunk, with hieyes half-open, but there was n

expression in them, and his face waalmost colourless except for the broasmear of blood. It was oozing fast from aceration in his scalp, but Dampier, who

noticed his chilliness, did not in thmeanwhile trouble about that. He strippeoff the senseless man's long boots, an

unshipping a hot fender iron from thstove laid it against his feet. Afterwardhe contrived to get some whisky down hihroat, and then set to work to wash th

scalp wound, dropping into the water



ittle of the permanganate of potash, whics freely used at sea. When that was don

he applied a rag dipped in the same fluid

and seeing no result of his efforts wenback on deck. He was anxious about hipatient, but not unduly so, for he hadiscovered long ago that men of hi

description are apt to recover from morserious injuries. By and bye, he saidWyllard's brain, which had evidently beerudely jarred by the shock, would resumts functions.

It was blowing very hard when he stoonear the wheel. A steep sea was alreadyumbling after the schooner, but she was

at least, heading out from where thesupposed the ice to be, and he let her go

keeping her away before it, and heading



ittle south of east. When morning camhe sea was very high, and the faint ligh

further dimmed by snow, but it seemed to

him just safe, and no more, to run, and theheld on while the big combers came upastern and forged by, ridged with foamhigh above her rail.

She was travelling very fast, to theastwards, under boom-foresail and onittle jib, with her mainmast broken shor

off where the bolts of the halliard blockhad traversed it, and Dampier realisehat because of that every knot she madhen could not by any means be recoverehat season. He wondered, with a littl

uneasiness, what Wyllard would say whehe came to himself again. In th

meanwhile he said nothing, but lay like



og in his bunk, only that there was now ittle warmth in him.

Next day the breeze moderatesomewhat, and they let her come up ittle, heading further south; while on th

morning after that Wyllard showed sign

of returning consciousness. Dampierhowever, kept away from him, partly toallow his senses to readjust themselvesand partly because he rather shrank fro

he coming interview. At length, whendusk was falling, Charly came up to sahat Wyllard, who seemed quite sensiblensisted on seeing him, and Dampier wen

down with some misgivings into the littlcabin. The lamp was lighted, and when hsat down Wyllard, who raised himsel

feebly on his pillow, turned a pallid fac



o him.

"Charly tells me you picked the boat up,

he said.

"We did," said Dampier. "She had threeor four planks on one side ripped out o

her."

Wyllard's faint grimace implied that thidid not matter, and Dampier braced

himself for the question he dreaded. Hhad to face it in another moment.

"How's she heading?"

"A little south of east."

Wyllard's face hardened. It was stil

blowing moderately fresh, and by th



heave of the vessel and the wash of wateoutside he could guess how fast she waravelling. Except for the latter sound

however, there was for a moment or twoan almost oppressive silence in the littlcabin. Then Wyllard spoke again.

"You have been running to the eastwardsince I was struck down?" he said.

Dampier nodded. "Three days," he said

"Just now the breeze is on her quarter."

He winced under Wyllard's gaze, andspread his hands out deprecatingly.

"Now," he added, "what else was there could do? She wrung her masthead ofwhen you jibed her and there's not stic



enough left to set any canvas that woulshove her to windward, I might have hovher to, but the first time the breeze haule

easterly she'd have gone up on the beacor among the ice with us. I had to run!"

Wyllard closed a feeble hand. "Dunto

was crippled, too. It's almost incredible."

"In one way, it looks like that, but, afteall, a jibe's quite a common thing with

fore-and-after. If you run her off to lewhen she's going before it her mainboom'bound to come over. Of course, nobodwould run her off in a wicked breez

unless he had to, but you'd no choice withe ice in front of you."

Wyllard lay very still for almost



minute. It was clear to him that his projecmust be abandoned for that season, whicmeant that at least six months must elaps

before he could even approach thKamtchatkan coast again.

"Well," he said at length, "what do you

mean to do?"

"If the breeze holds we could pick uone of the Aleutians in a few days, but I'

keeping south of them. There'll probablbe ugly ice along the beaches, and I've nfancy for being cast ashore by a stronide when the fog lies on the land. With

westerly winds I'd sooner hold on foAlaska. We could lie snug in an inlehere, and, it's quite likely, get a cedar tha

would make a spar. I can't head right awa



for Vancouver with no mainsail."

This was clear to Wyllard, who made

feeble gesture. "If the wind comeeasterly?"

Dampier pursed his face up. "The

unless I could fetch one of the Kurilewe'd sure be jammed. She won't beat twindward, and there'd be all Kamtchatko lee of us. The ice is packing up alon

he north of it now, and the Russians havwo or three settlements to the south. We

don't want to run in and tell them whawe're after."

A faint smile crept into Wyllard's eyes"No," he said, "not after that little affair ohe beach. Since it's very probable that th



vessel they send up to the seal islandwould deliver stores along the coast, thfolks in authority would have a record o

t. They'd call the thing piracy—and, in sense, they'd be justified."

He said nothing more for a little, an

hen looked up again wearily.

"I wonder," he said, "how that boat'crew ever got across to Kamtchatka. I

was north of the islands where the mabrought Dunton the message."

Dampier understood that he desired t

change the subject, for this was a questiohey had often discussed already.

"Well," he said, "I still hold by my firs



notion. They were blown ashore on thbeach we'd just left, and made prisonersThen a supply schooner or perhaps

steamer came along, and they sent them ofn her to be handed over to the authorities

The vessel put in somewhere. We'll sayshe was lying in an inlet with a boa

astern, and somehow they cut that boaoose in the dark, and got away in her."

He broke off for a moment, and the

ooked at his companion significantly.

"You can find quite a few points wherehat idea seems to fail," he added. "The

were in Kamtchatka, but I'm beginning tfeel that we shall never know any morhan that."



Wyllard made a little weary gesture oconcurrence, but before he closed theDampier saw no sign that he meant t

abandon his project in his eyes. In anothefew minutes he seemed to sink into sleepand Dampier, who went up on deck, paceo and fro awhile before he stopped by th

wheel and turned to the helmsman.

"You can let her come up a couple opoints. We may as well make a little

southing while we can," he said.

Charly, who was steering, looked upwith suggestive eagerness. "Then he's no

going for the Aleutians?"

"No," said Dampier drily. "I was kind oafraid of that, but I choked him off



Anyway, this year won't see us back iVancouver." He paused, with a littlearring laugh. "We're going to stay up here

until we find out where those men lefheir bones. The man who has this thing i

hand isn't the kind that lets up."

Charly made no answer, but his fachardened as he put his helm down a spokor two.

Next day the wind fell lighter, but for week it still held westerly, and after that iblew moderately fresh from the southCrippled as she was, the Selache woul

ie a point or two south of east when thehad set an old cut down fore-staysail owhat was left of her mainmast, and thhearts of her crew grew a little lighter a



she crawled on across the Pacific. Thehad no wish to be blown back to thfrozen North. The days were, however

growing shorter rapidly, and the sun hunow in the southern sky when at length sh

crept into one of the many inlets thandent the coast of Southern Alaska. Ther

was just wind enough to carry her in rouna long, foam-lapped point, and sooafterwards they let the anchor go in foufathoms in a sheltered arm, with a rivemouth not far away. There was no sign oife anywhere about it, and the ragge

cedars that crept close down to the beac

stood out in sombre spires against thgleaming snow.

The cold was not particularly sever

when she crept in, but when Dampier wen



ashore next morning to pick a log that thecould hew a mast out of the temperatursuddenly fell, and that night the drift ic

from the river mouth closed in on themWhen the late daylight broke she wafrozen fast, and they knew it would bseveral months before she moved again. I

was then before the gold rush, and iwinter Alaska was practically cut off froall communication with the south. No mawould have attempted to traverse thremendous snow-wrapped desolation o

almost impassable hills and tracklesforests that lay between them and th

nearest of the commercial factories on thnorth, or the canneries on the other handBesides, the canneries were shut up iwinter time. They were prisoners, an

could only wait with what patience the



could muster until the thaw set them freagain.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A DELICATE ERRAND.

There was sharp frost outside, and thprairie was white with a thin sprinkle osnow, when a little party sat down tosupper in the Hastings homestead onSaturday evening. Hastings sat at the heaof the table, his wife at the foot with he

ittle daughters, Agatha, Sproatly, and



Winifred between them. The latter twohad just driven over from the railroasettlement, as they did now and then

which explained why the meal, which iusually served early in the evening, habeen delayed an hour or so. The two hiremen, whom Mrs. Hastings had not kep

waiting, had gone out to some task in thbarn or stables.

By and bye Sproatly took a bundle o

papers out of his pocket and laid them ohe table. There had been a remarkabl

change in his appearance of late, for hnow wore store clothes, and the skin coahe had taken off when he came in was, ahis hostess had noticed, a new one. Ioccurred to her that there was a certai

significance in this, though Sproatly ha



changed his occupation some little timago, and now drove about the prairie obehalf of certain makers of agricultura

mplements.

"I called for your mail and Gregory'before we left," he said. "I had to go roun

o see him, which is partly what made uso late, though Winifred couldn't get awaas soon as she expected. They've floods owheat coming in to the elevators, and

understand that the milling people canake another bushel in."

Mrs. Hastings glanced at Agatha, who

understood what she meant, for Sproatlhad hitherto spoken of Winifredcircumspectly as Miss RawlinsonHastings, however, took the papers whic



Agatha handed him, and laid them aside.

"We'll let them wait until supper's over

don't expect any news that's particularlgood," he said. "The bottom's apparentldropping out of the wheat market."

"Hamilton can't get cars enough, anwe'll have to shut down in another day owo unless they turn up," said Winifred

"It's much the same all along the line. Th

Winnipeg traffic people wired us thehaven't an empty car in the yards. Why dyou rush the grain in that way? It's bouno break the market."

Hastings smiled rather drily. "Well," hesaid, "a good many of us have bills tmeet. For another thing, they've had



heavy crop in Manitoba, Dakota, anMinnesota, and I suppose some folks havan idea they'll get in first before the othe

people swamp the Eastern markets. I thinhey're foolish. It's a temporary scare

Prices will stiffen by and bye."

"That's what Hamilton says, but suppose the thing is natural. Men are verike sheep, aren't they?"

Hastings laughed. "Well," he admitted"we are, in some respects. When pricebreak a little we generally rush to sellOne or two of my neighbours are

however, holding on, and it's hardly likelhat very much of my wheat will be flun

on to a falling market."



"We have been getting a good deal fromhe Range."

There was displeasure in Hastings'face. "Gregory's selling largely on Harry'account?"

"They've been hauling wheat in to us fohe last few weeks," said Winifred.

Hastings, as Agatha noticed, glanced a

his wife significantly, but she interposedand forbade any further conversation ohe kind until supper was over, whil

when the table had been cleared Hasting

opened his papers. The rest saexpectantly silent, while he turned theover one after another.



"No," he said, "there's no news of Harryand I'm afraid it's scarcely possible thawe'll hear anything of him this winter."

Agatha was conscious that MrsHastings's eyes were upon her, and she savery still, though her heart was beating

ittle faster than usual. Hastings, howeverwent on again.

"The Colonist has a line or two about

barque from Alaska, which put intoVictoria short of stores," he said. "Shwas sent up to an A.C.C. factory, and hado clear out before she was ready. The ice

t seems, was closing in unusually early. Asteam whaler at Portland reports the samhing, and from the news brought by

steamer from Japan all communicatio



with North-Eastern Asia is already cuoff."

None of the others said anything for moment or two, and Agatha, leaning bacn her chair, glanced round the room

There was not much furniture in it, bu

hough this was unusual on the prairiedoor and double casements were guardeby heavy hangings. The big brass lamoverhead shed down a cheerful light, th

birch billets in the stove snapped ancrackled noisily, and its pipe, which wafar too hot to touch, diffused a drowsheat. One could lounge beside icontentedly, knowing that the stinging froswas drying the snow to dusty powdeoutside. That heightened the contrast, fo

Agatha pictured the little schooner boun



fast in the Northern ice, and then two ohree travel-worn men crouching in a tinent buffeted by an Arctic gale. She could

see the poles bend, and the tricings strain.

After that, with a sudden transition, hehoughts went back to the early mornin

when Wyllard had driven away, and everydetail of the scene rose up clearly in hemind. She saw him and the stolid Dampiesitting in the waggon, with nothing in thei

manner to suggest that they were settinout upon a very perilous venture, and shfelt his hand close tight upon her fingersas it had done just before the waggoolted away from the homestead. Sh

could once more see it growing smalleand smaller on the white prairie, until i

dipped behind the crest of a low rise, an



he sinking beat of hoofs died away. Thenat least, she had realised that he hastarted on the first stage of a journe

which might lead him through the icebound gates of the North to the rest thaawaits the souls of the sailormen. Shcould not, however, imagine hi

shrinking. Gripping helm, or hauling in thsled traces, he would gaze with quiet eyesteadfastly ahead, even if they saw onlhe passage from this world to the next

Once more, as it had done that morning, curious thrill ran through her, and therwas pride as well as regret in it. Then sh

became conscious that Hastings waspeaking.

"What took you round by the Range

Jim?" he asked.



"Collecting," said Sproatly. "I soldGregory a couple of binders earlier in thseason, but, as it happened, I couldn't get

dollar out of him." He laughed. "Ocourse, if it had been anybody else I'have stayed until he handed over, but couldn't press Gregory too hard afte

quartering myself upon him as I did laswinter, though I'm rather afraid memployers wouldn't appreciate that kind odelicacy."

Mrs. Hastings looked thoughtfu"Gregory should have been able to payHe thrashed out a moderately good crop."

"About two-thirds of what it should havbeen, and I've reason for believing that hhas been putting up a mortgage. Interest'



heavy. There's another matter. I wonder iyou've heard that he's getting rid of two oHarry's hands? I mean Pat and Tom

Moran."

"You're sure of that?" Hastings askedsomewhat sharply.

"Tom told me."

Mrs. Hastings leaned forward suddenl

n her chair. "Then," she said, "I'm goino drive across on Monday, and have

few words with Gregory. Did Moran telyou that Harry had decided to keep th

wo of them on throughout the year?"

"He wasn't very explicit, but he seemeo feel he had a grievance agains



Gregory. Of course, in a way, you canblame Gregory. He's in charge, and it isnn him to carry out Harry's policy. Thi

fall in wheat is getting on his nerves, ann any case he'd probably have held hi

hand and cut down the crop next year."

"I do blame him," and Mrs. Hastingurned to Agatha. "You will understandhat in a general way there's not much tha

can be done when the snow's upon th

ground, and as one result of it the hireman prefers to engage himself for the yearTo secure himself from being turned adrifwhen harvest's over he will frequentlmake a concession in wages. Now I knowHarry intended to keep those two men onand Tom Moran, who has a little half

cleared ranch back somewhere in the bus



of Ontario, came out here tempted bhigher wages. I understand he had to raisa few dollars or give the place up, and h

eft his wife behind. A good many of theittle men can't live upon their holdings alhe while. Well, I'm going over on

Monday to tell Gregory he has got to keep

hem, and you're coming with me."

Agatha said nothing. In the first placeshe knew that if Mrs. Hastings had mad

her mind up she would gain nothing bobjecting, and in addition to this she waconscious of a certain desire to go. Iappeared in some respects aunreasonable wish, but she felt deep down her that if Wyllard had let the me

understand that he would not dismiss the

he promise, implied or explicit, must b



redeemed. He would not have attempteo release himself from it—she was sur

of that—and it appeared intolerable to he

hat another should be permitted to danything that would unfavourably reflecon him. Then, somewhat to her reliefHastings started another topic.

"You have sold quite a few binders andharrows one way or another, haven't youJim?" he said.

Sproatly laughed. "I have," he said. "Atold the Company's Western

representative some time ago, a man wh

could sell patent medicine to the folkround here could do a good trade ianything. He admitted that my contentiosounded reasonable, but I didn't wea



store clothes then, and he seemed very fafrom sure of me. Anyway, he gave me ashow, and now I've got two or three quit

complimentary letters from the CompanyThey've added a few dollars to my salaryand hint that it's possible they may put mn charge of an implement store."

"And you're satisfied?"

"Well," said Sproatly, with an air o

reflection, "in some respects, I suppose am. In others, the thing's galling. You haveo report who you've called upon, and, i

you couldn't do business, why they bough

somebody else's machines. If you can't gea farmer to take you in you have to put upat a hotel. There's no more camping in birch bluff under your waggon. Besides



you have to wear store clothes."

Hastings glanced at Winifred, and

Agatha fancied she understood what wan his mind.

"Some folks would sooner sleep in

hotel," he said, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Then," said Sproatly, decisively, "theydon't know very much. They're the kind o

men who'd spend an hour every morninputting their clothes on, and they havenfound out that there's no comfort in angarment until you've had to sew two o

hree flour bag patches on to it. Then thinof the splendid freeness of the other thingYou make your supper when you wantand just how you like it, when you put u



n a bluff, and no tea tastes as good as thkind you drink with the wood smoke in iout of a blackened can. You can hear the

ittle birch leaves and the grassewhispering about you when you lie dowat night, and you drive on in the glorioufreshness—just when it pleases you—

when morning comes. Now the Companhave the whole route and programmplotted out for me. They write me letterdemanding most indelicately why I havendone this and that."

Winifred looked at him sharply"Civilisation," she said, "implieresponsibility. You can't live just how youike without it being detrimental to th

community."



"Oh yes," said Sproatly with a ruefugesture, "it implies no end of giving upYou have to fall into line, and that's why

kept outside it just as long as I could. don't like standing in a rank, and," hglanced down at his clothing, "I've anborn objection to wearing uniform."

Agatha laughed as she caught Hastings'eye. She fancied that Sproatly would bsorry for his candour afterwards, but sh

understood what he was feeling to somextent. It was a revolt against crampincustoms and conventionalities, and shpartly sympathised with it, though shknew that such revolts are dangerousEven in the West, those who cannot leadmust march in column with the rank an

file or bear the consequences of thei



futile mutiny. It is a hard truth that no macan live as he pleases.

"Restraint," said Winifred, "is wholesome thing, but it's one most of thmen I have met are singularly deficient inThat's why they can't be left alone but mus

be driven, as they are, in companies. It'heir own fault if they now and then find i

a little humiliating."

There was a faint gleam in her eyes awhich Sproatly apparently took warningfor he said no more upon that subject, anhey talked about other matters until h

ook his departure an hour or two later. Iwas next afternoon when he appeareagain, and Mrs. Hastings smiled at Agathas he and Winifred drove away together.



"Thirty miles is a long way to drive ihe frost. I suppose you have noticed tha

she calls him Jim?" she said. "Anyway

here's a good deal of very genuine abilitn that young man. He isn't altogethe

wild."

"His appearance rather suggested iwhen I first met him," said Agatha with augh. "Was it a pose?"

"No," said her companion reflectively"I think one could call it a reaction, ant's probable that some very worth

people in the Old Country are to blame fo

t. Sproatly is not the only young man whhas suffered from having too many ruleand conventions crammed down his throan fact, they're rather plentiful."



Agatha said nothing further, for the littlgirls appeared just then, and it was nountil the next afternoon that she and Mrs

Hastings were alone together again. Theas they drove across the prairie wrappen the heavy waggon robes her companio

spoke of the business they had in hand.

"Gregory must keep those men," shsaid. "There's no doubt that Harry meano do it, and it would be horribly unfair t

urn them loose now when there'absolutely nothing going on. Besides, TomMoran is a man I'm specially sorry for. A

told you, he left a young wife and a verittle child behind him when he came ou

here."

"One would wonder why he did it," sai



Agatha. "He had to. There seems to be notion in the Old Country that we earn oudollars easily, but it's very wrong. We'l

ake that man's case as an example. He haa little, desolate holding up in the bush oOntario, a hole chopped out of the foresstudded all over with sawn-off fir-stumps

with a little, two-roomed log shack on in all probability there isn't a settlemen

within two or three leagues of the spoow, as a rule, a place of that kind won

produce enough to keep a man for severayears after he has partially cleared it, anunless he can earn something in th

meanwhile he must give it up. Moran, iseems, got heavily into debt with thnearest storekeeper, and had to choosbetween selling the place up or comin

out here where wages are higher. Well



you can probably imagine what it must bo the woman who stayed behind in th

desolate bush, seeing nobody for week

ogether, though I've no doubt that she'dbear it uncomplainingly believing that hehusband would come back with enough tclear the debt."

Agatha could imagine it, and a certaindignation against Gregory crept into he

heart. She had once liked to think of hi

as pitiful and chivalrous, and now, iseemed, he was quite willing that thiwoman should make her sacrifice in vain.

"But why have you taken the trouble tmpress this on—me?" she asked.

Her companion smiled. "I want you t



plead that woman's cause. Gregory mado what you ask him gracefully. Thawould be much the nicest way out of it."

"The nicest way?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Hastings, with a trace

of dryness, "there is another one. Gregors going to keep Tom Moran, anyway

Harry has one or two friends in thineighbourhood who feel it more or less o

an obligation on them to maintain hicredit."

Agatha felt the blood rise to her face, bu

t was not her companion she was angrwith. It was an unpleasant thing to admitbut she fancied that Gregory might yield tudicious pressure when he would not b



nfluenced by either compassion or sense of equity. It also flashed upon hehat had Mrs. Hastings believed that sh

still retained any tenderness for the mashe would not have spoken as she hadone. The whole situation was horriblembarrassing, but there was courage i

her.

"Well," she said simply, "I will speak tohim."

They said nothing more until theapproached the Range, and as they drovby the outbuildings Agatha glanced abou

her curiously. It occurred to her that thhomestead did not look quite the same at had done when Wyllard had been there

A waggon stood near the strawpil



without one wheel. A door of the barnhung awkwardly open in a manner whicsuggested that it needed mending, and th

snow had blown inside the buildingThere was a gap in the side of one sod anpole structure which should evidentlhave been repaired, and all this an

several other things she noticed jarreupon her. They suggested slackness andndifference. Then she saw Mrs. Hasting

purse her lips up.

"There is a change in the place already,she said.

They got down in another minute or twoand when they entered the house the greyhaired Swedish woman greeted themoodily. She seemed to notice the glanc



Mrs. Hastings cast around her, and hemanner became deprecatory.

"I can't keep things straight now. It is nohe same," she said.

Mrs. Hastings asked if Hawtrey was in

and hearing that he was turned to Agatha"Go along and talk to him. I've somethino say to Mrs. Nansen," she said.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE PRIOR CLAIM.



It was with confused feelings amonwhich a sense of repugnancpredominated that Agatha walked toward

Hawtrey's room. She was not one of thwomen who take pleasure in pointing ouanother person's duty, for while she haddiscovered that this task is apparently a

easy one to some people she was quitaware that a duty usually looks much morburdensome when it is laid upon one'self. Indeed, she was conscious just thehat one might be shortly thrust upon he

which she would find it very hard to bearand she became troubled with a certai

compunction as she remembered how shhad of late persistently driven all thoughof it out of her mind.

There was no doubt that she was stil



pledged to Gregory, and that she hadoved him once. Both facts must b

admitted, and it seemed to her that if h

nsisted she must marry him. Deep down her there was an innate sense of righ

and honesty, and she realised that the fachat he was not the man she had onc

magined him to be did not release her. Ihe meanwhile, it was clear that if he wa

about to commit a cruel and unjustifiablaction she was the one person of all otherwhose part it was to restrain him.

The colour was a little plainer in heface than usual when she quietly enterehe room where he lay, pipe in hand, in ounge chair, and, for it seemed that he did

not immediately notice her, his attitude o

anguid ease irritated her. There were, a



she had seen, several things which shoulevidently have had some claim on hiattention outside. A litter of letters and

papers lay upon a little table at his sidebut the fact that he could not reach them ahe lay was suggestive. Then he rose, ancame forward with outstretched hand.



"It seemed that he did not immediately

notice her."

"I didn't hear you," he said. "This is pleasure I scarcely anticipated."

Agatha sat down in the chair he drew ou

for her near the stove, and he seemed tnotice that she glanced at the papers on thable, for he laughed.

"Bills, and things of that kind. They'vbeen worrying me for a week or two," hsaid. Then he seized the litter, andbundling it together flung it into an ope

drawer, which he shut with a snap"Anyway, that's the last of them for to-day'm awfully glad you drove over."



Agatha smiled. The action was scharacteristic of the man. She had oncfound no fault with Gregory's careles

habits, and his way of thrusting a difficultnto the background and making light of i

had appealed to her. It had suggested hiability to straighten out the trouble when i

appeared advisable. Now, she said, shwould not be absurdly hypercritical, anhe had, as it happened, given her the leahat she desired.

"I should have fancied that you woulhave had to give them more attention awheat is going down," she said.

Hawtrey looked at her with an air oreproach. "It must be nearly three weeksince I have seen you, and now you expec



me to talk of farming." He made whimsically rueful gesture. "If you quitrealised the situation it would be about th

ast thing you would ask me to do."

Agatha was a little astonished tremember that three weeks had actuall

elapsed since she had last met him, anhey had only exchanged a word or twhen. He had certainly not obtrude

himself upon her, for which she wa

grateful.

"Nobody is talking about anything excephe fall in prices just now," she persisted

"I suppose it affects you, too?"

The man, who seemed to accept this as rebuff, looked at her rather curiously, and



hen laughed.

"It must be admitted that it does. In fact

've been acquiring parsimonious habitand worrying myself about expenseately. They have to be kept dow

somehow, and that's a kind of thing I neve

ook kindly to."

"You feel it a greater responsibilitywhen you're managing somebody else'

affairs?" suggested Agatha, who was stilwaiting her opportunity.

"Well," said Hawtrey, in whom there

was, after all, a certain honesty, "that's noquite the only thing that has some weighwith me. You see, I'm not altogetherdisinterested. I get a certain percentage—



on the margin—after everything is paidand I want it to be a big one. Things arrather tight just now, and the wretched

mortgage on my place is crippling me."

It had slipped out before he quitrealised what he was saying, and he saw

he girl's look of astonishment anconcern. She now realised what Sproatlhad meant.

"You are in debt, Gregory? I thought youhad, at least, kept clear of that," she said.

"So I did—for a while. In any case, i

Wyllard stays away, and I can run thiplace on the right lines, I shall, no doubget out of it again."



She was vexed that he had said this, fot was clear to her that if Wyllard did no

return until another crop was gathered in i

would be because he was held fast amonhe Northern ice in peril of his life. The

another thought struck her. She had nevequite understood why Gregory had bee

willing to undertake the management of thRange, in view of the probability oWyllard having plainly told him what hhad said to her, but he had made that poinclear by admitting that he had beeburdened with a load of debt, whicsuggested the question why he ha

ncurred the latter. The answer appearedn another moment or two, as shremembered having heard Mrs. Hastingor somebody else say that he had spent

good many dollars upon his house an



furnishings for it. It brought her a suddesense of confusion, for as one result of thaexpenditure he had been forced into doin

what she fancied must have been a verrepugnant thing, and she had never evecrossed his threshold.

"When did you borrow that money?" shasked sharply.

There was no doubt that the man wa

embarrassed, and her heart softeneowards him for his hesitation. It was t

further her comfort he had laid that loaupon himself, and he was clearl

unwilling that she should recognise itThat counted for a good deal in his favour

"Was it just before I came out?" she



asked again.

Hawtrey made a little sign o

expostulation. "You really mustn't worryme about these matters, Aggy. A goodmany of us are in the storekeepers' omortgage-jobbers' hands, and there's n

doubt that if I have another good year ahe Range I shall clear off the debt."

Agatha turned her face away from hi

for a moment or two. The thing the mahad done laid a heavy obligation on herand she remembered that she had onlfound fault with him. Even then, however

stirred as she was, she was conscious thaall the tenderness she had once felt for hihad gone. The duty, however, remainedand with a little effort she turned to hi



again.

"Oh!" she said, "I'm so sorry."

Hawtrey smiled. "I really don't think deserve a very great deal of pity. As have said, I'll probably come out all righ

next year if I can only keep expensedown."

Then Agatha remembered the task sh

had in hand. It was a very inauspicioumoment to set about it, but that could nobe helped, and even for the man's owsake she felt that she must win him over.

"There is one way, Gregory, in which don't think it ought to be done," she said"You took over Wyllard's obligations



when you took the farm, and I think yoshould keep the two Morans on."

Hawtrey started. "Ah!" he said, "MrsHastings has been setting you on; I partlexpected it."

"She told me," Agatha admitted. "Unlesyou will look at the thing as I do, I coulalmost wish she hadn't. The thought of thawoman shut up in the woods all winte

only to find that what she must have tbear has all been thrown away troubleme. Wyllard promised to keep those meon, didn't he?"

"There was no regular engagement so faas I can make out."



"Still, Moran seems to have understoohat he was to be kept on."

"Yes," admitted Hawtrey, "he evidentlydoes. If the market had gone with us I'have fallen in with his views. As it hasn'tevery man's wages count."

Agatha was conscious of a little thrill orepugnance. Of late Gregory's ideas harather frequently jarred on hers.

"Does that release you?"

Hawtrey did not answer this.

"I'll keep those men on if you want mo," he said.

Agatha winced at this. She ha



discovered that she must not look for tomuch from Gregory, but to realise that hhad practically no sense of mora

obligation, and could only be influenceo do justice by the expectation o

obtaining her favour positively hurt her.

"I want them kept on, but I don't wanyou to do it for that reason," she said"Can't you grasp the distinctionGregory?"

A trace of darker colour crept intoHawtrey's face, but while she was a littlastonished at this he looked at he

steadily. He had not thought much abouher during the last month, but now the fainscorn in her voice had stirred him.



"Now," he said, "there are just threreasons, Aggy, why you should haveroubled yourself about this thing. You

are, perhaps, a little sorry for Moran'wife, but as you haven't even seen her thacan hardly count for much. The next ishat you don't care to see me doing wha

you regard as a shabby thing; perhaps it ia shabby thing in some respects, but I feet's justifiable. Of course, if that's you

reason there's a sense in which, while noexactly complimentary—it's consoling."

He broke off, and looked at her with question in his eyes, and it cost Agatha aeffort to meet them. She was not prudisor over conscious of her owrighteousness, but once or twice after th

shock of her disillusionment in regard t



him had lessened she had dreamed of thpossibility of enduing him little by littlwith some of the qualities she had onc

fancied he possessed, and, as she vaguelhought of it, rehabilitating him. Now

however, the thing seemed impossibleand, what was more, the desire to bring i

about had gone. Hateful as the situatiowas becoming, she was honest, and shcould not let him credit her with a motivhat had not influenced her.

In the meanwhile, her very coldness analoofness stirred desire in the man, anshe shrank as she saw a spark of passiokindling in his eyes. It was merelpassion, she felt, for she recognised thahere was a strain of grossness in him.



"No," she said, "that reason was not onwhich had any weight with me."

Hawtrey's face hardened. "Then," hsaid grimly, "we'll get on to the thirdWyllard's credit is a precious thing to yousooner than anything should cast a stain o

t you would beg a favour from—me. Youhave set him up on a pedestal, and iwould hurt you if he came downConsidering everything, it's a remarkabl

curious situation."

Agatha grew a trifle pale. Gregory wahorribly right, for she had no doubt now

hat he had merely thrust upon her somewhat distressing truth. It was to savWyllard's credit, and for that alone shhad undertaken this most unpalatable task



She did not answer, and Hawtrey stoodup.

"Wyllard has his faults, but there's this ihis favour—he keeps a promise," he said"One has a certain respect for a persowho never goes back upon his word

Well, because I really think he would liket, I'll keep those men."

He paused for a moment, as if to let he

grasp the drift of this, and then turned ther with something that startled her in hivoice and manner. "The question is—aryou willing to emulate his example?"

Agatha shrank from the glow in his eyes"Oh!" she broke out, "you cannot urge mnow—after what you said."



Hawtrey laughed harshly. "Well," hesaid, "I'll come for my answer vershortly. It seems that you and Wyllard

attach a good deal of importance to moral obligation—and I must remind yohat the time agreed upon is almost up."

Agatha sat very still for perhaps half minute, while a sense of dismay crepover her. There was no doubt thaGregory's retort was fully warranted. Sh

had, as she admitted, insisted upon hicarrying out an obligation which woulcost him something, not because she toopleasure in seeing him do what wahonourable, but to preserve the credit oanother man, and now it was with intensrepugnance she recognised that there wa

apparently no escaping from the one sh



had incurred. The man's attitude waperfectly natural and logical. She hapromised to marry him, and he ha

saddled himself with a load of debt on heaccount, but the slight pity and tendernesshe had felt for him a few minutes earliehad utterly gone. Indeed, she felt sh

almost hated him. His face had growhard and almost brutal, and there was ook she shrank from in his eyes.

Then she rose.

"Do you wish to speak to MrsHastings?" she asked.

Hawtrey smiled rather grimly. "No," hsaid, "if she'll excuse me, I don't think do. If you tell her you have bee



successful, she'll probably be quitcontent."

Agatha went out without another wordand Hawtrey lighted his pipe anstretched himself out in his chair, when hheard the waggon drive away a few

minutes later. He did not like MrsHastings, and had a suspicion that she hano great regard for him, but he waconscious of a somewhat gri

satisfaction. There was, though it seldocame to the surface, a taint of crudbrutality in his nature, and it was activnow. When Agatha had first come out thechange in her had been a shock to him, ant would not have cost him very much tet her go. Since then, however, he

coldness and half-perceived disdain ha



angered him, and the interview which waust over had left him in an unpleasan

mood. Though this was, perhaps, the las

hing he would have expected, it hastirred him to desire. It was consoling tfeel that he could exact the fulfilment oher promise from the girl. His face grew

coarser as he assured himself of it, but hhad, as it happened, never realised thshiftiness and instability of his owcharacter. It was his misfortune that thmpulses which swayed him one day ha

generally changed the next.

This became apparent when, havinoccasion to drive in to the elevators on thrailroad a week later, he called at a storo make one or two purchases. The ma

who kept it laid a package on the counter.



"I wonder if you'd take this along tMiss Creighton as a favour," he said. "Shwrote for the things, and Elliot was to tak

hem out, but I guess he forgot; anyway, hdidn't call."

Hawtrey told the clerk to put the packag

n his waggon. He had scarcely seen Sallsince his recovery, and he suddenlremembered that, after all, he owed her good deal, and that she was very pretty

Besides, one could talk to Sally withoufeeling the restraint that Agatha's manneusually laid on him. Then the storekeepeaid an open box upon the counter.

"I guess you're going to be married band bye," he said.



Hawtrey was thinking of Sally then, anhe question irritated him.

"I don't know that it concerns you, but ia general way it's probable," he said.

"Well," said the storekeeper good

humouredly, "a pair of these mittenwould make quite a nice present for ady. Smartest thing of the kind I've eve

seen here; choicest Alaska fur."

Hawtrey bought a pair, and thstorekeeper took a fur cap out of anothebox.

"Now," he said, "this is just the thinshe'd like to go with the mittens. There'style about that cap; feel the gloss of it."



Hawtrey bought the cap, and smiled ahe swung himself up into his waggonGloves are not much use in the prairi

frost, and mittens, which are not dividento finger-stalls, will within limits fi

almost anybody. This, he felt, wafortunate, for he was not quite sure that h

meant to give them to Agatha.

It was bitterly cold, and the pace theam made was slow, for the snow wa

oose and too thin for a sled of any kindwhich, after all, is not very generally useupon the prairie. As the result of this, nighhad closed down and Hawtrey was frozealmost stiff when at last a birch bluff rosout of the waste in front of him. It cublack against the cold blueness of the sk

and the spectral gleam of snow, but when



he had driven a little further a stream oruddy orange light appeared in the midsof it. A few minutes later he pulled hi

eam up in front of a little log-built houseand getting down with difficulty saw thdoor open as he approached it. Sallstood in the entrance silhouetted against

blaze of cheerful light.

"Oh!" she said. "Gregory!"

Hawtrey recognised the thrill in hevoice, and took both her hands, as he haonce been in the habit of doing.

"Will you let me in?" he asked.

The girl laughed in a rather strainefashion. She had been a little startled, an



was not quite sure yet as to how shshould receive him; but in the meanwhilHawtrey drew her in.

"The old folks are out," she said"They've gone over to Elliot's for supperHe's bringing us a package."

Hawtrey, who explained that he had got, let her hands go, and sat dow

somewhat limply. He had come suddenl

out of the bitter frost into the littlebrightly-lighted, stove-warmed room. Ianother few moments, however, thcomfort and cheeriness of it appealed t

him.

"This looks very cosy after my desolatroom at the Range," he said.



"Then if you'll stay I'll make you suppersuppose there's nothing to take yo

home?"

"No," said Hawtrey, with a significanglance at her, "there certainly isn't, SallyAs a matter of fact, I often wish ther

was."

He saw her sudden uncertainty, whicwas, however, not tinged wit

embarrassment, and feeling that he hagone far enough in the meanwhile he wenout to put up his team. When he came bachere was a cloth on the table, and Sall

was busy about the stove. He sat dowand watched her attentively. In somrespects, he thought, she comparefavourably with Agatha. She had a nicel



moulded figure, and a curious lithgracefulness of carriage which wasuggestive of a strong vitality, whil

Agatha's bearing was usuallcharacterised by a certain rather frigirepose. This and the latter's generamanner had a somewhat inciting effect o

him when he was in her presence, but hnow and then remembered it afterwardwith resentment. Then Sally's face was aeast as comely in a different way, andhere was no reserve in it. She was wha

he thought of as human, frankly flesh anblood. Her quick smile was, as a rule

provocative, and never chilled one aAgatha's quiet glances sometimes did.

"Sally," he said, "you've grown prettie

han ever."



The girl turned partly round towards hiwith a slow, sinuous movement that hfound seductively graceful.

"Now," she said, "you oughtn't to sahose things to me."

Hawtrey laughed; he was usually sure ohis ground with Sally.

"Why shouldn't I, when it's just what yo

are?"

"For one thing, Miss Ismay wouldn't likt."

The man's face hardened. "I'm not surshe'd mind. Anyway, Miss Ismay doesnike a good many things I'm in the habit o

doing."



Sally, who had watched him closelyurned away again, but a little thrill o

exultation ran through her. It had been wit

dismay she had first heard him speak ohis marriage, which was, perhaps, noaltogether astonishing, and she had flehome in an agony of anger an

humiliation. That state of mind hadhowever, not lasted long, and when ibecame evident that the wedding was, aeast, postponed indefinitely, sh

commenced to wonder whether it waquite impossible that Hawtrey shoulcome back to her. She felt that h

belonged to her although he had nevegiven her any very definite claim in himShe was a trifle primitive and passionatebut she was determined, and now he ha

done what she had almost expected him t



do, she meant to keep him.

"You have fallen out?" she said, and

contrived to keep the anxiety she waconscious of out of her voice.

The question, and more particularly th

form of it, rather jarred upon Hawtrey, buhe answered it.

"Oh no," he said. "As a matter of fact

Sally, you can't fall out nicely witeverybody. Now when we fell out you godelightfully angry—I don't know if yowere more delightful then or when yo

graciously agreed to make it up again." Haughed. "I almost wish I could make yo

a little angry now."



Sally had moved a little nearer to take kettle off the stove, and she looked dowon him with her eyes shining in th

amplight. She realised that she woulhave to fight Miss Ismay for this man; buhere was this in her favour, that sh

appealed directly to one side of his nature

as Agatha, even if she had loved himwould not have done.

"Would you?" she said. "Dare you try?"

"I might if I was tempted sufficiently."

She leaned upon the table still looking a

him mockingly, and she was probablaware that her pose and expression werwholly provocative. Indeed, she could nohave failed to recognise the meaning of th



sudden tightening of his lips, though shdid not in the least shrink from it. She hanot the faintest doubt of her ability to keep

him at a due distance if it appearenecessary.

"Oh," she said, "you only say things."

Hawtrey laughed, and stooping dowpicked up a package he had brought frohe store.

"Well," he said, "after all, I think I'drather try if I can please you." He openehe package. "Are these things very muc

oo big for you, Sally?"



"'Are these things very much too big

for you, Sally?'"

The girl's eyes glistened at the sight ohe mittens he held out. They were ver

different from the kind she had hithertbeen in the habit of wearing, and when h

carelessly took out the fur cap she broknto a little cry of delight. In th

meanwhile Hawtrey watched her with rather curious expression. He was no

quite sure he had meant Sally to have thhings when he had purchased them, but h

was quite contented now. The one gift hhad somewhat diffidently offered Agathsince her arrival in Canada had beealmost coldly laid aside.

In another few minutes Sally laid ou



supper, and as she waited upon hidaintily or filled his cup Hawtrey thrushe misgivings he had felt further behin

him. Sally, he thought with a little drsmile, could certainly cook. When thmeal was over he sat talking about nothinn particular for almost an hour, and then

stood up. It occurred to him that Sally'mother would be back before very longand she was a person he had no greaiking for.

"Well," he said, "I must be getting homeWon't you let me see you with that capon?"

Sally, who betrayed no diffidence, puon the cap, and stood before a little dingmirror with both hands raised while sh



pressed it down upon her gleaming hairThen she flashed a smiling glance at himt was quite sufficient, and as she turne

again Hawtrey slipped forward as softlas he could. She swung round, howeverwith a flush in her face and a forcefulrestraining gesture.

"Don't spoil it all, Gregory," she saidsharply.

Hawtrey, who saw that she meant it—which was a cause of some astonishmeno him—dropped his hand.

"Oh," he said, "if you look at it in thaway I'm sorry. Good-night, Sally!"

She let him go, but she smiled when h



drove away; and half an hour later shshowed the cap and mittens to her mothewith significant candour. Mrs. Creighton

who was a severely practical personnodded.

"Well," she said, "he only wants a little

managing if he bought you these, annobody could say you ran after him. wouldn't, anyway; some of them don't likt."

CHAPTER XX.



THE FIRST STAKE.

A fortnight had slipped by since thevening Hawtrey had spent with Sallywhen Winifred and Sproatly once morarrived at the Hastings homestead. Th

girl was looking a trifle jaded, and iappeared that the manager of the elevatorwho had all along treated her with a goodeal of consideration, had insisted upo

her going away for a few days now thpressure of business which had followehe harvest had slackened. Sproatly, a

usual, had driven her in from th

settlement.

When the evening meal was over thedrew their chairs close up about the stove

and Hastings thrust fresh birch billets int



t, for there was a bitter frost. MrsHastings installed Winifred in a canvaounge and wrapped a shawl about her.

"You haven't got warm yet, and you'reooking quite worn out," she said. "

suppose Hamilton has still been keepin

you at work until late at night?"

"We have been very busy since I waast here," Winifred admitted, and the

urned to Hastings. "Until the last week oso there has been no slackening in the ruso sell. Everybody seems to have beehrowing wheat on to the market."

Hastings looked thoughtful. "A goodmany of the smaller men have been doinso, but I think they're foolish. They're onl



helping to break down prices, and shouldn't wonder if one or two of the bigong-headed buyers saw their opportunit

n the temporary panic. In fact, if I'd a pilof dollars lying in the bank I'm not surhat I wouldn't send along a buying orde

and operate for a rise."

His wife shook her head at him. "No,she said; "you certainly wouldn't while had any say in the matter. You're rather a

good farmer, but I haven't met one yet whomade a successful speculator. Some of oufriends have tried it—and you knowwhere it landed them. I expect thosbroker and mortgage men must lick theiips when a nice fat woolly farmer come

along. It must be quite delightful to shea

him."



Hastings laughed. "I should like to poinout that most of the farmers in this countrare decidedly thin, and have uncommonl

ittle wool on them." Then he turned to threst. "I feel inclined to tell you how MrsHastings made the expenses of her Paririp; it's an example of feminin

consistency. She went round thneighbourhood and bought all the wheaanybody had left on hand up, or, at leastshe made me do it."

His wife, who had, as it happenedmeans of her own, nodded. "That wadifferent," she said; "anyway, I had thwheat, and I—knew—it would go up."

"Then why shouldn't other folks selforward, for instance, when they know i



will go down? That's not what I suggestedoing, but the point's the same."

"They haven't got the wheat."

"Of course; they wouldn't operate for fall if they had. On the other hand, if thei

anticipations proved correct, they coulbuy it for less than they sold at before thehad to deliver."

"That," said Mrs. Hastings severely, "ipure gambling. It's sure to land one in thhands of the mortgage jobber."

Hastings smiled at the others. "As matter of fact, it not infrequently does, bu

want you to note the subtle distinctionThe thing's quite legitimate if you've onl



got the wheat in a bag. In such a case yomust naturally operate for a rise."

"There's a good deal to be said for thapoint of view," observed Sproatly. "Youcan keep the wheat if you're not satisfiedbut when you try the other plan the margi

hat may vanish at any moment is thdanger. I suppose Gregory has still beeselling the Range wheat, Winifred?"

"I believe we have sent on everbushel."

Sproatly exchanged a significant glanc

with Hastings, whose face once morgrew thoughtful.

"Then," said the latter drily, "if he's wis



he'll stop at that."

Mrs. Hastings changed the subject, an

drew her chair closer in to the stovewhich snapped and crackled cheerfully.

"It must be a good deal colder wher

Harry is," she said with a shiver.

She flashed a swift glance at Agatha, ansaw her expression change, but Sproatl

broke in again.

"It was bad enough driving in from thrailroad this afternoon," he said

"Winifred was almost frozen, which iwhy I didn't go round by Creighton's fohe pattern mat—I think that's what he sait was—Mrs. Creighton borrowed fro



you. I met him at the settlement a day owo ago."

Mrs. Hastings said that he could bring ianother time, and while the rest talked osomething else Winifred turned to Agatha

"It really was horribly cold, and I almosfancied one of my hands was frostnipped," she said. "As it happens, I canbuy mittens like your new ones."

"My new ones?" said Agatha.

"The ones Gregory bought you."

Agatha laughed. "My dear, he nevegave me any."

Winifred pursed her face up. "Well," she



persisted, "he certainly bought them and fur cap, too. I was in the store when he dit, though I don't think he noticed me. The

were lovely mittens—such a pretty browfur."

Just then Mrs. Hastings, unobserved b

either of them, looked up and caughSproatly's eye. His face became suddenlexpressionless, and he looked away.

"When was that?" asked Agatha.

"A fortnight ago, anyway."

Agatha sat silent, and was rather glawhen Mrs. Hastings asked Winifred question. She desired no gifts froGregory, but since he had bought the cap



and mittens she wondered what he coulhave done with them. It was rathedisconcerting to feel that, while h

evidently meant to hold her to hepromise, he must have given them tsomebody else. She had, as it happenednever heard of his acquaintance with Sall

Creighton, but it struck her as curious thaalthough the six months' delay he hagranted her had lately expired, he haneither sent her any word nor called at thhomestead.

A few minutes later Mrs. Hastings tooup a basket of sewing she had beeengaged in, and moved towards the doorSproatly, who rose as she approachedhim, drew aside his chair, and she handed

he basket to him.



"You can carry it if you like," she said.

Sproatly took the basket, and followe

her into another room, where he sat idown.

"Well?" he said, with a twinkle in hi

eyes.

Mrs. Hastings regarded him thoughtfully"I wonder if you know what Gregory di

with those mittens?"

"I'm rather pleased that I can assure thadon't."

"Do you imagine that he kept them?"

"I'm afraid I haven't an opinion on tha

point."



"Still, if I said that I felt certain he hagiven them to somebody you would havsome idea as to who it would probabl

be?"

"Well," said Sproatly reluctantly, "If younsist upon it, I must admit that I coul

make a guess."

Mrs. Hastings smiled in a manner whicsuggested comprehension. "So could I,

she said. "I shouldn't wonder if we botguessed right. Now you may as well gback to the others."

Sproatly, who made no answer, turnedaway, and he was talking to Agatha whenhalf an hour later, a waggon drew upoutside the door. In another minute or two



he leaned forward in amused expectatioas Sally walked into the room.

"I'm going on to Lander's, and just calleo bring back the mat you lent us," she saio Mrs. Hastings. "Sproatly was to hav

come for it, but he didn't."

Sproatly, who said he was sorry, fixedhis eyes on her. It was clear to him thaAgatha did not understand the situation

but he rather fancied from her expressiohat Sally was filled with an almos

belligerent satisfaction. She was thewearing a very smart fur cap, and sh

carried a pair of new fur mittens whicshe had just stripped off in one handSproatly, who glanced at them, noticedhat Winifred did the same. Then Mrs



Hastings spoke.

"I don't think you have met Miss Ismay

Sally," she said.

Sally merely said that she had not, anSproatly became more sure that th

situation was an interesting one, wheMrs. Hastings formally presented her. Iwas clear to him that Agatha wasomewhat puzzled by Sally's attitude.

As a matter of fact, Agatha, who saidhat she must have had a cold drive, wa

regarding the new arrival with a curiosit

she had not expected to feel when she firscame in. Miss Creighton, she admittedwas comely, though she was clearlsomewhat primitive and crude. The lon



skin coat she wore hid her figure, but hepose was too virile, and there was a loowhich puzzled Agatha in her eyes. It wa

almost openly hostile, and there was suggestion of triumph in it. Agatha, whocould find no possible reason for thisresented it.

In the meanwhile Sally remainestanding, and, as she said nothing furtherhere was a somewhat awkward silence

She was the dominant figure in the roomand the others became sensible of certain slight constraint anembarrassment as she gazed at Agathwith unwavering eyes. In fact, it warather a relief to them when at length shurned to Mrs. Hastings.



"I can't stop. It wouldn't do to leave theam in this frost," she said.

This was so evident that they let her goand Mrs. Hastings, who went with her the door, afterwards sat down besid

Sproatly a little apart from the rest.

"I've no doubt you noticed thosmittens," she said softly.

"I did," Sproatly admitted. "I think yocan rely upon my discretion. If you hadnwanted this assurance I don't supposyou'd have said anything upon the subjec

t, however, seems very probable thaWinifred noticed them, too."

"Does that mean you're not sure tha



Winifred's discretion is equal to youown?"

Sproatly's eyes twinkled. "In thiparticular case the trouble is that she'animated by a sincere attachment to Missmay, and has, I understand, a rather poo

opinion of Gregory. Of course, I donknow how far your views on that poincoincide with hers."

"Do you expect me to explain them tyou?"

"No," said Sproatly, "I'm only anxious to

keep out of the thing. Gregory, as ihappens, is a friend of mine, and, after alhe has his strong points. I shouldhowever, like to mention that Winifred'



expression suggests that she's thinking osomething."

His companion smiled. "Then I musendeavour to have a word or two wither."

She left him with this, and not lonafterwards she and Winifred went ouogether, while when the others wer

retiring she detained Agatha for a minut

or two in the empty room.

"Haven't the six months Gregory gavyou run out yet?" she asked.

Agatha said they had, but it was evidenhat she had attached no particula

significance to the fact that Sally had wor



a new fur cap.

"He hasn't been over to see you since."

The girl, who admitted it, lookeroubled, and Mrs. Hastings laid a han

upon her shoulder.

"My dear," she said, "if he does comyou must put him off."

"Why?" Agatha asked, in a low, strainedvoice.

"For one thing, because we want to kee

you," and Mrs. Hastings looked at hewith a very friendly smile. "Are you veranxious to make it up with Gregory?"

A little shiver ran through the girl. "Oh,



she said, "I can't answer you that. I musdo what is right."

Then, somewhat to her astonishment, hecompanion drew her a little nearerstooped and kissed her.

"Most of us, I believe, have that wishbut the thing is often horribly complex,she said. "Anyway, you must put Gregoryoff again if it's only for another month o

wo. I fancy you will not find iremarkably difficult."

She turned away with that, but he

manner had been so significant thaAgatha, who did not sleep very well thanight, decided that if it was possible shwould act on her advice.



In the meanwhile, it happened that ittle very dapper gentleman who waargely interested in the land-agency an

general mortgage business was spendinhe evening with Hawtrey in Wyllard'

room at the Range. He had driven rounby Hawtrey's homestead earlier in th

afternoon, and had deduced a good deafrom the state of it, though this was a poinhe kept to himself. Now he lay in a loungchair beside the stove smoking one oWyllard's cigars and unobtrusivelwatching his companion. There was a rolof bills in his pocket which the latter ha

very reluctantly parted with.

"In view of the fall in wheat it must havbeen rather a pull for you to pay me tha

nterest," he said.



"It certainly was," Hawtrey admittewith a somewhat rueful smile. "I'm sorry ihad to be done."

"I don't quite see how you made it,persisted the other man. "What you got foyour wheat couldn't have done much mor

han cover working expenses."

Hawtrey laughed. He was quite awarhat his companion's profession was no

one that was regarded with any greafavour by the prairie farmers, but he wanever particularly cautious, and he ratheiked the man.

"As a matter of fact, it didn't, Edmonds,he said. "You see, I practically paid youout of what I get for running this place



The red wheat Wyllard raises generallcommands a cent or two a bushel morfrom the big milling people than anythin

put on the market round here."

Edmonds made a sign of agreement. Hhad without directly requesting him to d

so led Hawtrey into showing him rounhe Range that afternoon, and having o

necessity a practical knowledge ofarming he had been impressed by all tha

he had noticed. The farm, which was a bione, had evidently been ably manageuntil a little while ago, and he felt thstrongest desire to get his hands on itThis, as he admitted, would have been ouof the question had Wyllard been at homebut with Hawtrey, upon whom he had

certain hold, in charge, the thing appeare



by no means impossible.

"Oh, yes," he said. "I suppose he wa

reasonably liberal over your salary."

"I don't get one. I take a share of thmargin after everything is paid."

Edmonds carefully noted this. He wanot sure that such an arrangement woulwarrant one in regarding Hawtrey a

Wyllard's partner, but he meant to gather aittle more information upon that point b

and bye.

"If wheat keeps on dropping there wonbe any margin at all next year, and that'what I'm inclined to figure on," he said"There are, however, ways a man wit



nerve could turn it to account."

"You mean by selling wheat down."

"Yes," said Edmonds, "that's just what mean. Of course, there is a certain hazarn the thing. You can never be quite sure

how the market will go, but the signeverywhere point to still cheaper wheanext year."

"That's your view?"

Edmonds smiled, and took out of hipocket a little bundle of market reports.

"Other folks seem to share it iWinnipeg, Chicago, New York, andLiverpool. You can't get behind these

stock statistics, though, of course, dea



ow prices are apt to cut the output."

Hawtrey read the reports with eviden

nterest, and, as it happened, they were aln the same pessimistic strain, though h

was not aware that his companion hacarefully selected them with a view to th

effect he fancied they would produceEdmonds, who saw the interest in hieyes, leaned towards him confidentiallwhen he spoke again.

"I don't mind admitting that I'm taking hand in a big bear operation," he said. "It'rather outside my usual business, but th

hing looks almost certain."

Hawtrey glanced at him with a gleam ihis eyes. There was no doubt that th



prospect of acquiring dollars by an easiemethod than toiling in the rain and winappealed to him.

"If it's good enough for you it should bsafe," he said. "The trouble is that I'vnothing to put in."

"Then you're not empowered to lay ouWyllard's money. If that was the case ishouldn't be difficult to pile up a bigge

margin than you're likely to do bfarming."

Hawtrey started, for the idea had alread

crept into his mind.

"In a way, I am, but I'm not sure that I'warranted in operating on the market wit



t."

"Have you the arrangement you mad

with him in writing?"

Hawtrey opened a drawer, and Edmondbetrayed no sign of the satisfaction he fel

when he was handed a somewhanformally worded document. He peruset carefully, and it seemed to him that i

constituted his companion a partner in th

Range, which was satisfactory. Then hooked up thoughtfully.

"Now," he said, "while I naturally can

ell what Wyllard contemplated, thipaper certainly gives you power to danything you think advisable with himoney. In any case, I understand that h



can't be back until well on in next year."

"I shouldn't expect him until late in th

summer, anyway."

There was silence for a moment or twoand during it Hawtrey's face grew a trifl

hard. It was unpleasant to look forward the time when he would be required t

relinquish the charge of the Range, and oate he had been wondering how he coul

make the most of the situation in thmeanwhile. Then his companion spokagain.

"It's almost certain that the operation suggested can only result one way, and iappears most unlikely that Wyllard wouldraise any trouble if you handed hi



several thousand dollars over and abovwhat you had made by farming. I canmagine a man objecting to that kind o

hing."

Hawtrey sat still with indecision in hieyes for half a minute, and Edmonds, wh

was too wise to say anything, leaned bacn his chair. Then Hawtrey turned to th

drawer again with an air of sudderesolution.

"I'll give you a cheque for a couple ohousand dollars, which is as far as I caro go just now," he said.

He took a pen, and Edmonds watchehim with quiet amusement as he wrote. Aa matter of fact, Hawtrey was in on



respect, at least, perfectly safe ientrusting the money to him. Edmonds hadeprived a good many prairie farmers o

heir possessions in his time, but he nevestooped to any crude trickery. He left thao the smaller fry. Just then he was playin

a deep and cleverly thought-out game.

He pocketed the cheque Hawtrey gavhim, and then discussed other subjects fohalf an hour or so until he rose.

"You might ask them to get my team out've some business at Lander's and hav

ordered a room there," he said. "I'll sen

you a line when there's any change in thmarket."



CHAPTER XXI.

GREGORY MAKES UP HIS

MIND

Wheat was still being flung on to

ifeless market when Hawtrey walked ouof the mortgage jobber's place of businesn the railroad settlement one bitte

afternoon. He had a big roll of pape

money in his pocket, and was feelinparticularly pleased with himself, foprices had steadily fallen since he haoined in the bear operation Edmonds ha

suggested, and the result of it had prove



eminently satisfactory. This was why hhad just given the latter a further draft oWyllard's bank, with instructions to sel

wheat down on a considerably morextensive scale. He meant to operate iearnest now, which was exactly what thbroker had anticipated, but in this case h

had decided to let Hawtrey operate alonendeed, being an astute and far-seeing ma

he had gone so far as to hint that cautiomight be advisable, though he had at thsame time been careful to show Hawtreonly those market reports which had distinctly pessimistic tone. Edmonds wa

rather disposed to agree with the men whooked forward to a reaction before verong.

Hawtrey glanced about him as he strod



down the street. It was wholly unpavedand rutted deep, but the drifted snow hapartly filled the hollows up, and it did no

ook very much rougher than it would havdone if somebody had recently driven plough through it. A rude plank sidewalkran along both sides of it, raised a foot o

wo above the ground that foot-passengermight escape the mire of the thaw ispring, and immediately behind thsidewalk squat, weatherbeaten, framhouses, all of much the same pattern, rosabruptly. In some of them, however, thefronts were carried up as high as the ridg

of the shingled roof, giving them aunpleasantly square appearance. Here anhere a dilapidated waggon stood witowered pole before a store, but it was

particularly bitter afternoon, and ther



was nobody in the street. The placooked desolate and forlorn, with a leade

sky hanging over it and an icy win

sweeping through the streets.

Hawtrey, however, was used to that, andstrode along briskly until he reached th

open space which divided the littlwooden town from the unfenced railroarack. It was strewn with fine dusty snow

and the huge bulk of the grain elevator

owered high above it against the lowerinsky. As it happened, a freight locomotivewas just hauling a long string of wheacars out of a side-track amidst discordant tolling of its bell. It stoppepresently, and though Hawtrey could nosee anything beyond the big cars h

fancied by the shouts which broke out tha



something unusual was going on. He waexpecting Sally, who was going East toBrandon by a train due in an hour or two.

When the shouts grew a little louder hwalked round in front of the locomotivwhich stood still with the steam blowin

noisily from a valve, and as soon as hhad done so he saw the cause of thcommotion. A pair of vicious, half-brokenbronchos were backing a light waggo

away from the locomotive on the otheside of the track, and a fur-wrapped figursat stiffly on the driving seat. Hawtrecalled out and ran suddenly forward as hsaw that it was Sally.

Just then one of the horses lifted its forhoofs off the ground, and being jerke



back by the pole plunged and kickefuriously, until its companion flung up ithead and the waggon went backward

with a run. Then they stopped, and therwas a further series of resounding crasheagainst the front of the vehicle. Hawtrewas within a pace or two of it when Sall

recognised him.

"Keep off," she said, "you can't leahem. They don't want to cross the track

but they've got to if I pull the jaws ofhem."

This was more forcible than elegant, an

he shrill harshness of the girl's voicarred upon Hawtrey, though he wa

getting accustomed to Sally's phraseologyHe, however, recognised that she would



not have his help, even if it would havbeen of much avail, which was doubtfuland he reluctantly moved back towards th

group of loungers who were watching her

"I guess you've no call to worry abouher," said one of them. "She's holdin

hem on the lowest notch, and it's a mightpowerful bit fixing. Besides, that gircould drive anything that goes on fouegs."

"Sure," said one of the others. "She's daisy."

Hawtrey was a little annoyed to notichat in place of being embarrassed by i

Sally evidently rather enjoyed thsituation, though several of the freigh



rain and station hands had now joined thgroup of loungers and were cheering heon. He had already satisfied himself tha

she had not a trace of fear. In anothemoment or two, however, he forgot hislight sense of disconcertion, for Sallysitting tense and strung up on the drivin

seat with a glow in her cheeks and a snapn her eyes, was wholly admirable. Ther

was lithe grace, virility, and resolution ievery line of her fur-wrapped figure. It ipossible that her appearance would havbeen less effective in a drawing room, bun the waggon she was in her place and i

harmony with her surroundings. Lowerinsky, gleaming snow, fur-clad men, andeven the big, dingy locomotive, all fittecuriously into the scene, and she made a

mposing central figure as she contende



with the half-tamed team. Hawtrey waconscious of a stirring of his physicanature as he watched her.

The struggle lasted for several minuteduring which the horses plunged ankicked again, until Sally stood boldl

erect a moment while the waggon rockeo and fro, a tall, straight figure with ress of loosened hair streaming ou

beneath her fur cap, as she swung th

stinging whip. Then it seemed that theam had had enough, for as she droppeightly back into the seat they broke into

gallop, and in another moment the waggonolting horribly as it bounced across thrack, vanished behind the locomotive

Gregory heard a shout of acclamation a

he turned and hurried after it.



Sally, however, drove right through thesettlement and back outside it before shcould check the horses, and she had jus

pulled them up in front of the woodehotel when Hawtrey reached it. He stoobeside the waggon holding up his hand ther, and Sally, who laughed, dropped

bodily into his arms, which was, as hrecognised, a thing that Agatha certainlwould not have done. He set her dowupon the sidewalk, and when a man camout to take the team they went into thhotel together.

"It was the locomotive that did it," shexplained. "They were most too scared foanything, but I hate to be beaten by a teamOurs know too much to try, but I go

Haslem to drive me in. I dropped him a



orton's, who'll bring him on."

"He oughtn't to have left you with them,

said Hawtrey severely.

Sally laughed. "Well," she said, "I'd quidriving if I couldn't handle any team yo

or Haslem could put the harness on."

In a general way, the hotels in thsmaller prairie settlements offer one ver

ittle comfort or privacy. As a rule theycontain two general rooms, in one owhich the three daily meals are servewith a punctuality which is as unvaryin

as the menu. The traveller who arrives few minutes too late for one must waiuntil the next is ready. The second roousually contains a rusty stove, and a few



uncomfortable benches; and there are nonfrequently a couple of rows of ver

small match-boarded cubicles on the floo

overhead. The Occident was, however, notable exception. For one thing, thbuilding was unusually large, and itproprietor had condescended to study th

requirements of his guests, who came fohe most part from the outlying settlements

There were two rooms above the generaounge, one of which was reserved for th

wives or daughters of the farmers whdrove in long distances to purchase storeor clothing. In the other, dry-good

ravellers were permitted to display theiwares, and, though this was very unusuan that country, any privileged custome

who wished to leave by a train, th

departure of which did not synchroniz



with the hotel arrangements, waoccasionally supplied with a meal.

It was getting dusk when Hawtrey anSally entered the first of the two roomswhere the proprietor's wife was jusighting the big lamp. She smiled at th

man, who was, as it happened, a favouritof hers.

"Go right along, and I'll bring you

supper up in a minute or two," she said. "guess you'll want it after your drive."

Hawtrey strode on down a shor

corridor towards the second room, buSally stopped behind him a moment.

"Is Hastings in town?" she asked. "



hought I saw his new waggon outside."

"His wife is," said the other woman

"She and Miss Ismay drove in to buy somhings."

Sally asked no further questions. It wa

evident that Mrs. Hastings would not starhome until after supper, and as the regulahotel meal would be ready in about half ahour it seemed certain that she woul

come back to the hotel very shortly. Thaeft Sally very little time, for she had n

desire that Hawtrey should meet eitheMrs. Hastings or Agatha until she had

carried out the purpose she had in hand. Iwas at Gregory's special request she hapermitted him to drive in to see her offand she meant to make the most of th



opportunity. She had long ago regrettedher folly in running away from hihomestead when he lay helpless, bu

hings had changed considerably sinchen.

She said nothing about what she ha

heard to Hawtrey when she entered thsecond room. It was cosily warm anbrightly lighted, and the little table waaid out for two with a daintiness ver

uncommon on the prairie. It was a changfor Sally to be waited on and have a measet before her which she had not madwith her own fingers, and she sank into chair with a smile of appreciation.

"It's real nice, Gregory," she said"Supper's never quite the same whe



you've had to stand over the stove ever song getting it ready." She sighed

whimsically. "When I have to do that afte

working hard all day I don't want to eat."

The man felt compassionate. Sally, as h

was aware, had to work unusually hard ahe little desolate homestead where sh

and her mother perforce undertook a goomany duties that do not generally fall to

woman's share. Creighton, who wagetting an old man, was of grasping natureand only hired assistance when it wandispensibly necessary.

"Well," he said, "I'm not particularlyfond of cooking either."



Sally glanced at him with a provocativsmile, for he had given her a lead. "Then,she said, "why don't you get somebod

else to do it for you?"

This was, as the man recognised, almospainfully direct, but there was no doub

hat Sally looked very pretty with the fainflush of colour in her cheeks and thantalising light in her eyes.

"As a matter of fact, that's a thing I'vbeen thinking over rather often the last fewmonths," he said, and laughed. "It's rathea pity you don't seem to like cooking

Sally."

Sally appeared to consider this. "Oh,she said, "it depends a good deal on wh



t's for."

Hawtrey became suddenly serious for

moment or two. There was no doubt thahe would at one time have considered impossible that he should marry a girl o

Sally's description, and even now he ha

misgivings. He had, however, almosmade up his mind, and he was not exactlpleased that the proprietor's wife came iwith the meal just then, and stayed to tal

awhile.

When she went out he watched Sallwith close and what he fancied wa

unobtrusive attention while she ate, anhough he was sensible of the indelicac

of this, he was once more relieved to finhat she did nothing that was actuall



repugnant to him. After all, there was certain daintiness about the girl, and hefrank appreciation of the good things se

before her only amused him. She wacertainly much more amusing than Agathhad been since she came out to Canadaand her cheerful laughter had a pleasan

ring. When at length the meal was oveshe bade him draw her chair up to thstove.

"Now," she said, and pointed to anothechair across the room, "you can sit yondeand smoke. I know you want to."

Hawtrey remembered that Agatha didnot like tobacco smoke, and had alwaybeen inclined to exact a certaiconventional deference which he ha



grown to regard as rather out of placupon the prairie.

"That's a very long way off," hobjected.

Sally showed no sign of conceding th

point as he had expected, and he took ouhis pipe. He wanted to think, for oncmore instincts deep down in him stirred ifaint protest against what he almost mean

o do. There were also several points tharequired practical consideration, anamong them were his financial difficultieshough these did not trouble him so muc

as they had done a few months earlier. Foa minute or two neither of them saianything, and then Sally spoke again.



"You're worrying about somethingGregory?" she said.

Hawtrey admitted it. "Yes," he said, "am. My place is a poor one, and wheWyllard comes home I shall have to goback to it again. Things would be so muc

easier for me just now if I had the Range."

The girl looked at him steadily witreproach in her eyes.

"Oh," she said, "your place is quite bienough if you'd only take hold and run it at ought to be run. You could surely do it

Gregory, if you tried."

The man's resistance grew feebler, as iusually did when his prudence was a



variance with his desires. Sally's wordwere in this case wholly guileless, as hrecognised, and they stirred him. He sai

nothing, however, and she spoke again.

"Isn't it worth while, though there arhings you would have to give up?" sh

said. "You couldn't go away and wasteyour dollars in Winnipeg every now andhen."

Hawtrey laughed. "No," he admitted; "suppose if I meant to make anything of thplace that couldn't be done. Still, you seet's horribly lonely sitting by onesel

beside the stove in the long winter nightswouldn't want to go to Winnipeg if I had

only somebody to keep me company."



He turned towards her suddenly witdecision in his face, and Sally lowereher eyes.

"Don't you think you could get anybodf you tried?" she asked.

"The trouble," said Hawtrey gravely, "ihat I have so little to offer them. It's

poor place, and I'm almost afraid, Sallyhat I'm rather a poor farmer. As you have

once or twice pointed out, I don't stay withings. Still, it might be different if ther

was any particular reason why I should."

He rose, and crossing the room, stooclose beside her chair. "Sally," he added"would you be afraid to take hold and sewhat you could make of the place and me



Perhaps you could make something, thougt would probably be very hard work, m

dear."

The blood surged into the girl's face, anshe looked up at him with open triumph iher eyes. It was her hour, and Sally, as i

happened, was not afraid of anything.

"Oh!" she said; "you really want me?"

"Yes," said Hawtrey quietly; "I think have wanted you for ever so long, though did not know it until lately."

"Then," she said, "I'll do what I canGregory."

Hawtrey bent his head and kissed he

with a deference he had not expected t



feel, for there was something in the girl'simplicity and the completeness of hesurrender which, though the thing seeme

astonishing, laid a restraint on him. Thenas he sat down on the arm of her chaiwith a hand upon her shoulder, he wamore astonished still, for she quietly mad

t clear that she expected a good deal frohim. For one thing, he realised that shmeant him to take and keep a foremosplace among his neighbours, and, thougSally had not the gift of clear anmaginative expression, it becam

apparent that this was less for her ow

sake than his. She was, with somewhacrude forcefulness, trying to rouse a sensof responsibility in the man, to incite hio resolute action and wholesom

restraint, and, as he remembered what h



had hitherto thought of her, a salutarsense of confusion crept upon him.

She seemed to recognise it, for at lengtshe glanced up at him sharply.

"What is it, Gregory? Why do you loo

at me like that?" she asked.

Hawtrey smiled in a rather curioufashion. Hitherto she had made her appea

hrough his senses to one side of his naturonly. There was no doubt on that point, bunow it seemed there were in her qualitiehe had never suspected. She had desire

him as a husband, but it was becominclear that she would not be content withe mere possession of him. Sally, i

seemed, had wider ideas in her mind, and



hough the thing seemed almost ludicrousshe wanted to be proud of him.

"My dear," he said, "I can't quite tell you—but you have made me rather badlashamed. In some respects, I'm afraid it'a very rash thing you are going to do."

She looked at him with candiperplexity, and then appeared to dismishe subject with a smile.

"There is so much I want to say, and imayn't be so easy—afterwards," she said"It's a pity the train starts so soon."

"We can get over that difficultyanyway," said Hawtrey. "I'll come on afar as I can with you, and get back fro



one of the way stations by the Pacifiexpress."

Sally made no objections, and drawing ittle closer to him she talked on in a low

voice earnestly.

CHAPTER XXII.

A PAINFUL REVELATION.

A sprinkle of snow was driving dowhe unpaved street before the bitter wind

when Mrs. Hastings came out of a store i



he settlement and handed Sproatly, whowas waiting close by, several bipackages.

"You can put them into the waggon, andell Jake we'll want the team as soon a

supper's over," she said. "We're going to

stay with Mrs. Ormond to-night, and don't want to get there too late."

Sproatly took the parcels, and Mrs

Hastings turned to Agatha, who stood pace or two behind her with Winifred.

"Now," she said, "if there's nothing els

you want to buy we'll go across to thhotel."

They reached it a few minutes later, and



were standing in a big and rathecomfortless room when Sproatly rejoinehem.

"This place is quite shivery," said MrsHastings. "They generally have the stovighted in the little room along th

corridor. Go and see, Jim."

Sproatly went out, and, as it happenedhe was wearing gum-boots, which mak

very little noise. He proceeded along dark corridor, and then stopped abruptlwhen he had almost reached a partly-opedoor, for he could see into a lighted room

Hawtrey was sitting near the stove insidt on the arm of Sally's chair.

Then, though he was not greatl



astonished, Sproatly drew back a pace owo into the shadow, for it became evidenhat there were only two courses open t

him. He could judiciously announce hipresence by making the door rattle, anhen go in and mention as casually a

possible that Mrs. Hastings and Agath

were in the hotel. He felt that he ought tdo it, but there was the difficulty that hcould not warn Hawtrey withouembarrassing Sally. Sproatly pursed hiface up in honest perplexity as it becamevident that the situation was a delicatone, and then decided on the alternative

He would go back quietly, and keep MrsHastings out of the room if it could bdone.

"I think you would be just a



comfortable where you are," he informeher when he joined the others.

"I'm rather doubtful," said MrsHastings. "Wasn't the stove lighted?"

"Yes," said Sproatly, "I fancy it was."

"But I sent you to make sure."

"The fact is I didn't go in," said Sproatly

uneasily. "There's somebody in the rooalready."

"Any of the boys would go out if the

knew we wanted it."

"Oh yes," said Sproatly. "Still, you seet's only a small room, and one of them ha

been smoking."



Mrs. Hastings flashed a keen glance ahim, and then smiled in a manner he dinot like. It suggested that while sh

yielded to his objections in the meanwhilshe had by no means abandoned thsubject.

"Well," she said, "what shall we do untisupper? This stove won't draw properlyand I don't feel inclined to sit shiverinhere."

Then Sproatly was seized by whaproved to be a singularly unfortunatnspiration.

"It's really not snowing much, and we'lgo down to the depôt and watch thAtlantic express come in," he suggested



"It's one of the things everybody does."

This was, as a matter of fact, correct

There are not many amusements open the inhabitants of the smaller settlement

along the railroad track, and the arrival ohe infrequent trains is a source o

unflagging interest to most of them. MrsHastings fell in with the suggestion, anSproatly was congratulating himself upohis diplomacy when Agatha stopped a

hey reached the door of the hotel.

"Oh," she said, "I've only brought one omy mittens."

"I'll go back for the other," said Sproatlpromptly.



"You don't know where I left it."

"Then I'll lend you one of mine. It wil

certainly go on," the man persisted.

Agatha objected to this, and Sproatlywho fancied that Mrs. Hastings wa

watching him, let her go, after which hand the others moved out into the streeAgatha in the meanwhile ran back to throom they had left, and, finding the mitten

had reached the head of the stairway wheshe heard voices behind her in thcorridor. She recognised them, and turnedn sudden astonishment, standing, as i

happened, in the shadow, though not faaway a stream of light from the door of throom shone out into the corridor. Nexmoment Hawtrey and Sally approache



he door, and as the light fell upon thehe blood surged into Agatha's face, fo

she remembered the embarrassment i

Sproatly's manner, and that he had donall he could to prevent her going back fohe mitten. Then Hawtrey spoke to Sally

and there was no doubt whatever that h

called her "My dear."

Agatha stood still a moment filled witburning indignation, and they were almos

upon her before she turned and fleprecipitately down the stairway. She felhat this was horribly undignified, but sh

could not stay and face them. When shovertook the others she had, however, aeast recovered her outward composure

and they went on together towards th

rack. As yet she was only sensible o



anger at the man's treachery. It possessedher too completely for her to be consciouof anything else.

Cold as it was, there were a good manoungers in the station, and Sproatly, who

spoke to one or two of them, led his part

away from the little shed they hung abouand walked briskly up and down besidhe track until a speck of blinking ligh

rose out of the white wilderness. It grew

rapidly larger, until they could make out rail of smoke behind it, and the roar o

wheels rose in a long crescendo. Then bell commenced to toll, and the blaze of big lamp beat into their faces as the greaocomotive came clanking into the station

It stopped, and the light from the long ca



windows fell upon the groups of watchinfur-clad men, while here and there shadowy object that showed black agains

t leaned out from a platform. There washowever, no sign of any passengers for thrain until at the last moment two figure

appeared hurrying along beneath the cars

They drew nearer, and Agatha set her lipight as she recognised them, for the ligh

from a vestibule shone into Hawtrey's facas he half lifted Sally on to one of thplatforms and sprang up after her. Thehe bell tolled again, and the train sli

slowly out of the station with its light

flashing upon the snow.

Agatha turned away abruptly and walkea little apart from the rest. The thing, sh

felt, only admitted of one explanation, an



she did not wish her companions to seher face for the next minute or twoSproatly's diplomacy had had a mos

unfortunate result, and she was sensible oan almost intolerable disgust. She had kepfaith with Gregory, at least, as far as iwas possible to her, and he had utterly

humiliated her. The affront he had puupon her was almost unbearable.

In the meanwhile, Mrs. Hastings walke

up to Sproatly, who, feeling distinctluncomfortable, had drawn bacudiciously into the shadow.

"Now," she said, "I understand. You, ocourse, anticipated this."

"I didn't," said Sproatly with a decisio



which carried conviction with it. "certainly saw them at the hotel, but howcould I imagine that they had anything o

he kind in view?"

He broke off for a moment, and wavehis hand. "After all," he added, "what righ

have you to think it now?"

Mrs. Hastings laughed somewhaharshly. "Unfortunately, I have my eyes

but I'll admit that there's a certaiobligation on me to make quite certaibefore going any further. That's why want you to ascertain where he checke

his baggage to."

"I'm afraid that's more than I'm willing tundertake. Do you consider it advisable t



set the station agent wondering about thhing? Besides, once or twice in my caree

appearances have been rather badl

against me, and I'm not altogetheconvinced yet."

Mrs. Hastings let the matter drop, an

hey went back rather silently to the hotewhile as soon as supper was over shbade Sproatly get their waggon out androve away with Agatha. She said ver

ittle to the girl during the long, colourney, and they had no opportunity o

private conversation when they reachehe homestead where they were to spenhe night, which was, as it happened,

relief to Agatha. She hated herself for thhought in her mind, but everything seeme

o warrant it, and it would not be drive



out. She had heard what Gregory hacalled Sally at the hotel, and the fact thahe must have bought his ticket and checke

his baggage earlier in the afternoon whehere was nobody about, and then had ru

down with Sally at the last momenevidently in order to escape observation

was very significant.

She drove home next day, and on thfollowing morning a man who was drivin

n to Lander's brought Mrs. Hastings note from Sproatly. It was very brief, andran:

"Gregory arrived same night by Pacifirain. It is evident he must have got off ahe next station down the line."



Mrs. Hastings showed it to her husband.

"I'm afraid we have been too hasty. Wha

am I to do with this?" she said.

Hastings smiled. "Since you ask madvice, I'd put it into the stove."

"But it clears the man. Isn't it my duty tshow it to Agatha?"

"Well," said Hastings reflectively, "I'mnot sure that it is your duty to put ideanto her mind when you can't be quit

certain that she has entertained them."

"I should be greatly astonished if shhadn't," said the lady drily.

Hastings made a little whimsica



gesture. "Oh," he said, "you'll no doubt dwhat you think wisest. In a general waywhen you come to me for advice you hav

made your mind up, and only expect me tell you that you're right."

Mrs. Hastings thought over the matter fo

another hour or two. For one thingAgatha's quiet manner puzzled her, andshe did not know that the girl had spenone night in an agony of anger an

humiliation, and had then become sensiblof a relief that she was ashamed of. Therwas, however, no doubt that while shblamed herself for it, and in some degrefor what had happened, she did feel reliefShe was sitting alone for the time beinbeside the stove in a shadowy room whil

he light died off the snowy prairi



outside, when Mrs. Hastings came softln and sat down beside her.

"My dear," she said, "it's rather difficulo speak of, but that little scene at th

station must have hurt you."

Agatha looked at her quietly ansearchingly, but there was only sympathn her face, and she leaned forwarmpulsively.

"Oh," she said, "it hurt me horriblybecause I feel it was my fault. I was thcause of it."

"How could that be?"

"If I had only been kinder to him h

would, perhaps, never have thought of her



must have made it clear that he jarreupon me. I drove him"—and Agathurned her face away, while her voic

grew a trifle strained—"into that woman'arms. No doubt she was ready to make thmost of the opportunity."

Mrs. Hastings decided that the girl'scorn and disgust which had prompted thast outbreak were perfectly natural, buhey were, as it happened, not quit

warranted.

"In the first place," she said, "I think yohad better read this note."

Agatha took it from her, and there waight enough left to show that the bloo

had crept into her face when she laid i



down again. For almost a minute she savery still.

"It is a great relief to know that I wawrong—in one respect, but you must nohink I hated this girl because Gregory ha

preferred her to me," she said at length

"When the first shock had passed, therwas an almost horrible satisfaction ifeeling that he had released me—at ancost. I suppose I shall always be ashame

of that."

She broke off a moment, and her voicwas very quiet when she went on again.

"Still," she added, "what Sproatly saydoes not alter the case so very much afteall. It can't free me of my responsibility. I



hadn't driven him, Gregory would nohave gone to her."

"You consider that in itself a verydreadful thing?"

Agatha looked at her with suddenl

ifted head. "Of course," she said. "Cayou doubt it?"

Her companion laughed, though ther

was a little gleam in her eyes, for this waan opportunity she had been waiting for.

"Then," she said, "you spoke like a

Englishwoman—of station—just out frohe Old Country—but I'm going to try t

disabuse you of one impression. Sally, toput it crudely, is quite good enough fo



Gregory. In fact, if she had been mdaughter I'd have kept him away from herTo begin with, once you strip Gregory o

his little surface graces, and his cleaEnglish intonation, how does he comparwith the men you meet out here? Whadoes his superiority consist of? Is he true

or kinder than you have found most ohem to be? Has he a finer courage, or

more resolute endurance—a greatecapacity for labour, or a cleareknowledge of the calling by which hmakes his living?"

Agatha did not answer. She could noprotest that Gregory possessed any ohese qualities, and her companion wen

on again.



"Has he even a more handsome personcould point to a dozen men between her

and the railroad, whose clean, self

denying life has set a stamp on them thaGregory will never wear. To descend toperhaps the lowest point of all, has hmore money? We know he wasted what he

had—probably in indulgence—and thers a mortgage on his farm. Has he an

sense of honour? He let Sally believe hwas in love with her before you evecame out here, and of late, while he stilclaimed you, he has gone back to herCan't you get away from your point o

view, and realise what kind of man he is?

Agatha turned her head away. "Ah!" shsaid, "I realised him—several months ago

They were rather painful months to me



But you are quite sure he was in love witSally before I came out?"

"Well," said Mrs. Hastings, "his conducsuggested it." Then she laid a caressinhand on the girl's shoulder. "You tried tokeep faith with him. Tried desperately,

hink. Did you succeed?"

Agatha contrived to meet hecompanion's eyes. "At least, I would hav

married him."

"Then," said Mrs. Hastings, "I caforgive Gregory even his treachery, and

you have no cause to pity him. Sally'simple—primitive, you would call her—but she's clever and capable in alpractical things, She will bear wit



Gregory when you would turn from him idismay, and when it's necessary she wilnot shrink from putting a little judiciou

pressure on him in a way you could nohave done. It may sounncomprehensible, but that girl will lea

or drive Gregory very much further tha

he could have gone with you. She doesnregard him as perfection, but she lovehim."

She broke off, and there was for severaminutes a tense silence in the littlshadowy room. It had grown almost darkand the square of the window glimmerefaintly with the dim light flung up by thsnow.

Then Agatha turned slowly in her chair



"Thank you," she said in a low voice"You have taken a heavy weight off mymind."

She paused a moment, and then added"You have been a good friend all along. Iwas supreme good fortune that placed m

n your hands."

Mrs. Hastings patted her shoulder, andhen went out quietly, and Agatha lay stil

n her chair beside the stove. It snappeand crackled cheerfully, but save for thahere was a restful quietness, and the roo

was cosily warm, though she could hear

ittle icy wind wail about the building. Iswept her thoughts away to the froze

orth, and she realised what it had cosher to keep faith with Gregory as sh



pictured a little snow-sheeted schoonehemmed in among the floes, and two ohree worn-out men hauling a sle

painfully over the ridged and furrowece. The man who had gone up into tha

great desolation had been endued with aalmost fantastic sense of honour, and now

he might never even know that she lovehim. She admitted that she had loved hiseveral months ago.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THROUGH THE SNOW.



Next morning, the mail-carrier, whodrove up to the homestead half-frozen anwhite all over out of a haze of fallin

snow, brought Agatha a note fromGregory. It was brief, and she read it wita smile of half-amused contempt, thougshe admitted that, considering everything

he had handled the somewhaembarrassing situation gracefully. Thishowever, was only what she had expectedof him, and she recognised that it waequally characteristic of the man that hhad written releasing her from heengagement instead of coming himself

Gregory, as she realised now, had alwayaken the easiest way, and it was evidenhat he had not even the courage to fac

her. She quietly dropped his note—it did

not seem worth while to fling it—into th



stove.

She could forgive him for choosin

Sally. Though she was very human in mosrespects, that scarcely troubled her, bushe could not forgive him for persisting ihis claim to her while he was philanderin

—and this seemed the most fitting term—with her rival. Had he only been honestshe would not have let Wyllard go awawithout some assurance of her regar

which would have cheered him on hiperilous journey, and it was clear to hehat he might never come back again. He

face grew hard when she thought of it, anshe had thought of it of late verfrequently. For that, at least, she felt shalmost hated Gregory.



A month passed drearily, with Arcticfrost outside on the prairie, and little to dnside the homestead except to cook an

gorge the stove, and endeavour to keewarmth in one. Water froze solid insidehe building, stinging draughts crept ihrough the double windows, and ther

were evenings when Mrs. Hastings anAgatha, shivering close beside the stovewaited anxiously for the first sign oHastings and the hired man, who werbringing back a sled loaded with bircogs from a neighbouring bluff. It was onl

a couple of miles away, but men sent ou

o cut fuel in the awful cold snaps in thacountry have now and then sunk down ihe snow with the life frozen out of them

There were other days when the woode

building seemed to rock beneath th



buffeting of the icy hurricane, and it was perilous matter to cross the narrow opespace between it and the stables throug

he haze of shirling snow.

The weather, however, moderated aittle by and bye, and one afternoon soo

after it did so Mrs. Hastings drove off tLander's with the one hired man they kephrough the winter. Her husband, whonsisted upon her taking him, had set ou

earlier for the bluff, and as thScandinavian maid had recently beemarried, Agatha was left in the house withe little girls.

It was bitterly cold, even inside thdwelling, but Agatha was busy bakingand she failed to notice that the frost ha



once more become almost Arctic, until shstood beside a window as evening waclosing in. A low, dingy sky hung over the

narrowing sweep of prairie whicstretched back, gleaming lividly, into thcreeping dusk, but a few minutes later haze of snow whirled across it and cut th

dreary scene in half. Then the light dieout suddenly, and she and the little girldrew their chairs close up to the stoveThe house was very quiet, but she coulhear the mournful wailing of the winabout it, and now and then the soft swisof driven snow upon the walls and roofin

shingles.

The table was laid for supper, and kettle was singing cheerfully upon th

stove, but there was no sign of the others



and by and bye Agatha commenced to feea little anxious. Mrs. Hastings, shfancied, would stay the night at Lander's i

here was any unfavourable change in thweather, which seemed to be the case, bushe wondered what could be detaininHastings. It was not very far to the bluff

and as he could not have continuechopping in the darkness it seemed to hehat he should have reached the homestea

already.

He did not come, however, and she grewmore uneasy as the time slipped by, whilhe wail of the wind grew louder and th

stove crackled more noisily, until at lasone of the little girls rose with a cry, andshe fancied she heard a dull beat of hoofs

t grew plainer until she was sure of it, bu



soon after that the sound ceased abruptlyand she could not hear the rattle of flundown logs which she had expected. Thi

struck her as curious, since she knew thaHastings generally unloaded the slebefore he led the team to the stable. Shwaited a moment or two, but except fo

he doleful wind nothing broke the silencnow, and when it became oppressive shmoved towards the door.

The wind tore it from her grasp wheshe opened it, and flung it against the walwith a jarring crash, while a fine powdehat stung the skin unbearably drove int

her face. For a few moments she could senothing but a filmy, whirling haze, andhen, as her eyes became accustomed t

he change of light, she dimly made out th



blurred white figures of the horsestanding still, with the load of birch logrising a shapeless mass behind them

There seemed to be nobody with themand though she twice called sharply nanswer came out of the sliding snow. Theshe recognised the significant fact that th

eam had come home alone.

It was difficult to close the door, andbefore she accomplished it her hands ha

stiffened and grown almost useless, anhe hall was strewn with snow, but it wa

very evident that there was something foher to do. It cost her three or four minuteo slip on a blanket skirt, and soft hid

moccasins, with gum boots over them, anhen, muffled shapeless in her furs, sh

reassured the little girls, and opened th



door again. When she had contrived tclose it, the cold struck through her to thbone as she floundered towards the team

There was nobody she could look to foassistance, but that could not be helpedand it was evident to her that sommisfortune had befallen Hastings.

The first thing necessary was to unloahe sled, and, though the birches seldo

grow to any size in a prairie bluff, some o

he logs were heavy. She was gaspinwith the effort when she had flung a few ohem down, after which she discoverehat the rest were held up by one or tw

stout poles let into sockets. Try as shwould, she could not get them out, anhen she remembered that Hastings kept

whipsaw in a shed close by. Sh



contrived to find it, and attacked the polen breathless haste, working clumsily wit

mittened hands, until there was a cras

and rattle as she sprang clear. Then shstarted the team, and the rest of the logrolled off into the snow.

That was one difficulty overcome, buhe next appeared more serious. She mus

find the bluff as soon as possible, and ihe snow-filled darkness she could not tel

where it lay. Even if she could have seeanything of the kind, there was nandmark on the desolate level wast

between it and the homestead. Shehowever, remembered that she had onguide. Hastings and his hired man had oate hauled a good many loads of birc

ogs in, and as this had made a worn-ou



rail it seemed to her just possible that shmight trace it back to the bluff. No greaweight of snow had fallen as yet.

Before she set out she had a strugglwith the team, for the beasts had evidentlno intention of making another journey i

hey could help it, but at length she swunhem into the narrow riband of trail, an

plodded away into the darkness at theiheads. It was then she first clearl

realised what she had undertaken. Veryittle of her face was left bare between he

fur-cap and collar, but every inch ouncovered skin tingled as though it habeen lashed with thorns or stabbed witnnumerable needles. The air was thic

with a fine powder that filled her eyes an

nostrils, the wind buffeted her, and ther



was an awful cold—the cold that taxes thutmost strength of mind and body of thoswho are forced to face it on the shelterles

prairie.

Still she struggled on, feeling with halffrozen feet for the depression of the trai

and grappling with a horrible dismawhen she failed to find it for momentogether. Indeed, she was never sure to

what extent she guided the team, and how

far they headed for the bluff from merforce of habit, but as the time went by, andhere was nothing before her but th

whirling snow, she grew feverishlapprehensive. The trail was becominfainter and fainter, and now and then shcould find no trace of it for severa

minutes.



The horses, however, floundered onblurred shapes as white as the haze thecrept through, and at length she felt tha

hey were dipping into a hollow. Then faint sense of comfort crept into her hearas she remembered that a shallow ravinwhich seamed the prairie ran through th

bluff. She called out, and started at thfaintness of her voice. It seemed such pitifully feeble thing. There was nanswer, nothing but the soft fall of thhorses' hoofs and the wail of the wind, buhe latter was reassuring, for the volum

of sound suggested that it was drivin

hrough a bluff close by.

A few minutes later she cried out againand this time she felt the throbbing of he

heart, for a faint sound came out of th



whirling haze. She pulled the horses upand as she stood still listening, a blurreobject appeared almost in front of them. I

shambled forward in a curious mannerstopped, and moved again, and in anothemoment or two Hastings lurched by hewith a stagger and sank down into

huddled white heap on the sled. Shurned back towards him, and he seemeo look up at her.



"It shambled forward in a curious

manner."

"Turn the team," he said.

Agatha did it, and sat down beside hiwhen the horses moved on again.

"A small birch I was chopping fell ome," he said. "I don't know if it smashemy ankle, or if I twisted it wriggling clea

—the thing pinned me down. It's badlnipped, any way."

He spoke disconnectedly and hoarsely

as if in pain, and Agatha, who noticed thaone of his gum boots was almost ripped tpieces, realised part of what he must havfelt. She knew that nobody held fas



helpless could have withstood that colfor more than a very little while.

"Oh," she said, "it must have beedreadful!"

"I found a branch," Hastings added. "I

helped me, but I fell over every now anhen. Headed for the homestead. Donhink I could have made it if you hadn

come for me." He broke off abruptly, and

urned to her. "You mustn't sit down. Walk—keep warm—but don't try to lead theam."

Agatha struggled forward as far as thnear horse's shoulder. The beasts slightlsheltered her, and it was a little easiewalking with a hand upon a trace. It was



relief to cling to something, for the winhat flung the snow into her face drove he

garments against her limbs, so that now

and then she could scarcely move. Indeedwhen her strength commenced to flagevery yard of that journey was made witnfinite pain and difficulty. At times she

could scarcely see the horses, and agaishe stumbled along beside them fominutes, blinded, breathless, and halfdazed. She did not know how Hastingwas faring, but she half-consciouslrecognised that if once she let the trace ghe sled would slip away from her and sh

would sink down to freeze.

At length, however, a dim mass crept ouof the white haze ahead, and a momen

ater a man laid hold of her. He told he



hat Mrs. Hastings was with him, and thahe homestead was close at hand. Agathearned afterwards that they had reached i

a little earlier, and had immediately seout in search of her and Hastings. In thmeanwhile she floundered on beside thhorses with another team dimly visible i

front of her until a faint ray of lighstreamed out into the snow. Then theams stopped, and she had only a haz

recollection of staggering into a lighteroom in the homestead and sinking into chair. What they did with Hastings she didnot know, but by and bye his wife who

went with her to her room kissed hebefore she went out again.

Nobody could have faced the snow nex

morning, and it was some days later whe



Watson, who had attended Hawtrey aftehis accident, was brought over. He didwhat he could, but it was several week

before Hastings could use his injured fooagain. Before he recovered news was senhim of some difficulty in the affairs of small creamery at a settlement furthe

along the line, in which he and his wifheld an interest, and Mrs. Hastings wenEast to make inquiries respecting it. Shook Agatha with her, and one evening

after she had finished the business she han hand they left a little way station by th

Pacific train.

The car they entered was empty excepfor two people who sat close togethenear the middle of it. A big lamp overhead

shed down a brilliant light, and Agath



started when one of the two looked rounas she approached them. In anothemoment she stood face to face wit

Hawtrey, who had risen, while Sallgazed up at her with a rather curiouexpression in her eyes. Agatha, howeverwas perfectly composed now, and felt no

sympathy with Hawtrey, who was visiblconfused. She was not astonished that hfound the situation a somewhat difficulone.

"You have been to Winnipeg?" she said

"No," said Hawtrey, with evident relie

hat she had chosen a safe topic, "only tBrandon. Sally has some friends thereand she spends a day or two with theonce or twice each winter. Brandon'



quite a lively place after the prairie. went in last night to bring her back." Hurned to his companion. "I think you hav

met Miss Ismay?"

Agatha was conscious that Sally's eyewere fixed upon her, and that Mrs

Hastings was watching them all with quieamusement, but she was a little astonishewhen the girl suggestively moved somwraps from the seat opposite her.

"Yes," she said, "I have. If Miss Ismaydoesn't mind, I should like to talk to her."

Hawtrey's relief was evident, anAgatha glanced at him with a smile thawas half-contemptuous. He had carefullkept out of her way since he had writte



her the note, and now it seemed onlnatural that if there was anything to bsaid he should leave it to Sally.

"I think I'll go along for a smoke," hsaid, and retired precipitately.

Mrs. Hastings looked after him, anaughed in a manner at which Sall

seemed to wince.

"He doesn't seem anxious to talk to me,she said. "You can come along to the nexcar by and bye, Agatha."

Then she moved away, and Agatha whosat down opposite Sally looked at hequietly.

"Well?" she said.



Sally made a little deprecatory gesture"I've something to say, but it's hard. Tobegin with, are you very angry with me?"

"No," said Agatha. "I think I really am ittle angry with Gregory, but no

altogether because he chose you."

Sally seemed to consider this for moment or two before she looked uagain.

"Well," she said, "not long ago, I wantedo hate you, and I guess I most succeededt made things easier. Still, I want to say

hat I don't hate you now." She hesitated moment. "I'd like you to forgive me."

Agatha smiled. "In most respects I ca



do that willingly."

Sally seemed disconcerted by her quie

ease of manner and perfect candour. Iwas evidently not quite what she haooked for.

"Then you were never very fond ohim?" she suggested.

"No," said Agatha reflectively, "since

you have compelled me to say it, I donhink now that I ever was really fond o

him, though I don't know how I can makhat quite clear to you. It was only when

came out here I—realised—Gregory. Iwas not the actual man I fell in love witn England."



Sally turned her face away, for Agathahad, as it happened, made her meaninperfectly plain. Somewhat to the latter'

astonishment, she showed no sign oresentment when she looked round again.

"Then," she said, "it is way better tha

you didn't marry him." She paused, anseemed to search for words to expresherself with. "I knew all along all therwas to know about Gregory—except tha

he was going to marry you, and it wasome time before I heard that—and I waready to take him. I was fond of him."

Agatha's heart went out to her. "Yes,she said simply, "it is a very good thinhat I let him go." Then she smiled. "Tha

however, doesn't quite describe it, Sally."



Her companion flushed. "I couldn't havsaid that, but you don't quite understanyet. I said I knew all there was to know

about him—and you never did. You madeoo much of him in England, and when yo

came out here you only saw the things yodidn't like in him. Still, they weren't th

only ones."

Agatha started at this, for she realisehat part of it was certainly true, and sh

could admit the possibility of the resbeing equally correct. After all, Gregormight possess a few good qualities thashe had never discovered.

"Perhaps I did," she admitted. "I donhink it matters now."



"They're all of them mixed," persisteSally. "One can't expect too much, but youcan bear with a good deal when you'r

fond of any one."

Agatha sat silent awhile, for she waroubled by a certain sense of probabl

wholesome confusion. It seemed to hehat Sally had the clearer vision. Love ha

given her discernment as well as charityand, not expecting perfection, it was th

man's strong points she fixed her eyeupon.

"Yes," she said at length, "I am glad you

ook at it that way, Sally."

The girl laughed. "Oh!" she said, "I'vonly seen one man on the prairie who wa



quite white all through, and I had a kind onotion that he was fond of you."

Agatha sat very still, but it cost her aeffort.

"You mean?" she said at length.

"Harry Wyllard."

Agatha made no answer, and Sall

changed the subject, "Well," she said"after all, I want you to be friends witme."

"I think you can count on that," saiAgatha with a smile, and in another minutor two she rose to rejoin Mrs. Hastings.



CHAPTER XXIV.

THE LANDING.

The ice among the inlets on thAmerican side of the North Pacific brokup unusually early when spring cam

round again, and several weeks beforWyllard had expected it the Selach

floated clear. Her crew had suffered littlduring the bitter winter, for Dampier hadkept them busy splicing gear and patchinsails, and they had fitted her with a newmainmast hewn out of a small cedar. Non

of them had been trained as carpenters, bu



men who keep the sea for months in smalvessels are necessarily handy at repairsand they had all used axe and saw to som

purpose in their time. In any case, Wyllardwas satisfied when they thrashed thSelache out of the inlet under wholmainsail in a fresh breeze, and whe

evening came he sat smoking near thwheel in a contemplative mood as thclimbing forests and snow-clad heightdropped back astern.

He wondered what his friends werdoing upon the prairie, and whetheAgatha had married Gregory yet. Iseemed to him that this was, at leastpossible, for she was one to keep promise, and it was difficult to believ

hat Gregory would fail to press his claim



His face grew grim as he thought of ihough this was a thing he had done mor

or less constantly during the winter. H

fancied that he might have ousted Gregorf he had remained at the Range, fo

Agatha had, perhaps unconsciouslyshown him that she was, at least, not quit

ndifferent to him, but that would havbeen to involve her in a breach of faitwhich she would probably have alwayooked back on with regret, and in an

case he could not have stayed. He knew hwould never forget her, but it was, hadmitted, not impossible that she migh

forget him. He also realised, though thiwas not by comparison a matter of greaconsequence, that the Range was scarcelikely to prosper under Gregory'

management, but that could not be helped



and after all he owed Gregory somethingt never occurred to him that he was doin

an extravagant thing in setting out upon th

search he had undertaken. He only felt thahe obligation was laid upon him, and

being what he was, he could not shrinfrom it.

A puff of spray that blew into his facdisturbed his meditations, and when band bye a little tumbling sea splashed i

over the weather bow, he rose and helpedhe others to haul a reef in the mainsai

down. That accomplished, he went belowand lugged out a well-worn chart, whilhe Selache drove away to the westward

over a white-flecked sea. This time shcarried fresh southerly breezes with he

most of the way across the Pacific, an



plunged along hove down under the lasrag they dare set upon her with the bicombers surging up abeam, until at lengt

hey ran into the clammy fog close in withe Kamtchatkan beaches. Then the win

dropped, and they were baffled by lighand fitful airs, while it became eviden

hat there was ice about.

The day they saw the first big mass of igleaming broad across their course on

raw green sea, Dampier got aobservation, and they held a brief councin the little cabin that evening. Th

schooner was hove to then, and lay rollinwith banging blocks and thrashing canvaon a sluggish heave of sea.

"Thirty miles off shore," said Dampier



"If it had been clear enough we'd havseen the top of the big range quite a wafurther out to sea. Now, it's drift ice ahead

of us, but it's quite likely there's a soliblock along the beach. Winter holds on ong while in this country. I guess you'r

for pushing on as fast as you can?"

Wyllard nodded. "Of course," he said"you'll look for an opening, and work hen as far as possible. Then, if it'

necessary, Charly and I and another mawill take the sled and head for the beacacross the ice. If there's a lane anywhere would, however, probably take thsmallest boat. We might haul her a leagueor two, anyway, on the sled if the icwasn't very rough."



He looked at Charly, who made a littlsign.

"Well," he said simply, "I guess I'll haveo see you through. Now we've made

sled for her I'd take the boat, anywayWe're quite likely to strike a big streak o

water when the ice is breaking up."

"There's one other course," saiDampier; "the sensible one, and that's t

wait until it has gone altogether. Seems tome I ought to mention it, though it's noikely to appeal to you."

Wyllard laughed. "From all appearancewe might wait a month. I don't want to staup here any longer than is strictlnecessary."



"You'll head north?"

"That's my intention."

"Then," said Dampier, pointing to thchart before them, "as you should make thbeach in the next day or two I'll head fo

he inlet here. As it's not very far youwon't have to pack so many provisionalong, and I'll give you, say, three weeko turn up in. If you don't, I'll figure tha

here's something wrong, and do whaseems advisable."

They agreed to that, and when nex

morning a little breeze came out of thcreeping haze, they sailed her slowlshorewards among the drifting ice until, anightfall, an apparently impenetrabl



barrier stretched gleaming faintly ahead ohem. Wyllard retired soon afterwards

and slept soundly. All his preparation

had been made during the winter, andwhen at length morning broke hbreakfasted before he went out on deckThe boat was already packed wit

provisions, sleeping-bags, a tent, and twight sled frames, on one of which i

seemed possible that they might haul her few miles. She was very light and smaland had been built for such a purpose ahey had in view.

In the meanwhile the schooner lay twith backed forestaysail, tumbling wildlon a dim, grey sea. Half a mile away thce ran back into a dingy haze, and ther

was a low, grey sky to weather. Now and



hen a fine sprinkle of snow slid acroshe water before a nipping breeze. A

Wyllard glanced to windward Dampie

strode up to him.

"I guess you'd better put it off," he said"I don't like the weather; we'll have win

before long."

Wyllard only smiled, and Dampier mada little gesture.

"Then," he said, "I'd get on to the ice jusas soon as you can. You're still quite away off the beach."

Wyllard shook hands with him. "Weshould make the inlet in about nine daysand if I don't turn up in three weeks you'l



know there's something wrong. If there'no sign of me in another week you caake her home again."

Then Dampier, who said nothing furtherbade them swing the boat over, and wheshe lay heaving beneath the rail Wyllard

and Charly and one Indian dropped inther. It was only a preliminary search thewere about to engage in, for they hadecided that if they found nothing the

would afterwards push further north onland when they had supplied themselve

with fresh stores from the schooner.

They gazed at her with somewhat grifaces as they pulled away, and Wyllardwho loosed his oar a moment to wave hifur cap when Dampier stood upon her rai



was glad when a fresher rush of the bittebreeze forced him to fix his attention ohis task. The boat was heavily loaded, an

he tops of the grey seas splasheunpleasantly close about her gunwale. Shwas running before them, rising sharplyand dropping down out of sight of all bu

he schooner's canvas into the hollowsand though this made rowing easier hwas apprehensive of difficulties when hreached the ice.

His misgivings proved warranted as theclosed with it, for it presented an almosunbroken wall against the face of whiche sea spouted and fell in frothy wisps

There was no doubt as to what woulhappen if the frail craft was hurled upo

hat frozen mass, and Wyllard, who wa



sculling, fancied that before she couleven reach it there was a probability oher being swamped in the upheaval wher

he backwash met the oncoming seaCharly looked at him dubiously.

"It's a sure thing we can't get out there,

he said.

Wyllard nodded. "Then," he said, "we'lpull along the edge of it until we find a

opening or something to make a lee. Thsea's higher than it seemed to be from thschooner."

"We've got to do it soon," said Charly"There's more wind not far away."

Wyllard dipped his oar again, and the



pulled along the edge of the ice for ahour cautiously, for there were now littlfrothing white tops on the seas.

It was evident that the wind wafreshening, and at times a deluge of icwater slopped in over the gunwale. Th

men were further hampered by their fursand the stores among their feet, and thperspiration dripped from Wyllard whehey approached a ragged, jutting point. I

did not seem advisable to attempt anding on that side of it, and when a littl

snow commenced to fall he looked at hicompanions.

"I guess we've got to pull her out," saiCharly. "Dampier's heaving a reef downhe sees what's working up to windward."



Wyllard could just make out thschooner, which had apparently followedhem, a blurr of dusky canvas against

bank of haze, and then, as the boat slidown into a hollow, there was nothing buhe low-hung, lowering sky. It was evideno him that if they were to make a landin

t must be done promptly.

"We'll pull round the point firstanyway," he said.

A shower of fine snow that blotted ouhe schooner broke upon them as they dit, and the work was arduous. They wer

pulling to windward now, and it wanecessary to watch the seas that ranged upahead and handle her circumspectly whilhe freshening breeze blew the spray al



over them. They had to fight for everfathom, and once or twice she nearlrolled over with them, while the icy wate

grew steadily deeper inside her. Then ibecame apparent by degrees that, as thecould not have reached the schooner hahey attempted it, they were pulling fo

heir lives, and that the one way of escapopen to them was to find an opening osome kind round the point. Its raggeongue was horribly close to lee of theapped in a foaming wash when the snow

cleared for a minute or two, and they sawhat Dampier had driven the Selach

further off the ice. She was hove to nowand there was a black figure high up in heshrouds.

Just then, however, a bitter rush of wind



hurled the spray about them, and the boafell off almost beam on to the sea, in spitof all that they could do. The icy brin

washed into her, and it seemed almoscertain that she would swamp or roll ovebefore they could get way on her. Stillpulling desperately, they drove her round

he point. Then, as gasping and drippinhey made their last effort, a sea rolled up

ahead, and Wyllard had a momentarglimpse of an opening not far away as shswung up with it. He shouted to hicompanions, but could not tell whethehey heard and understood him, for afte

hat he was only conscious of scullinsavagely until another sea broke into heand she struck. There was a crash, and shswung clear with the backwash, with al

one side smashed in. Then she swung i



again just beyond a tongue of ice ovewhich the froth was pouring tumultuouslyand the Indian jumped from the bow. H

had the painter with him, and for half minute he held her somehow, standing ihe foam, while they hurled a few of th

carefully made-up packages in her as fa

on to the ice as possible. Then, aWyllard, who seized one sled frameumped, she rolled over. He landed on hi

hands and knees, but in another moment hwas on his feet, and he and the Indiaclutched at Charly, who drove towardhem amidst a long wash of foam.

They dragged him clear, and as he stoodup dripping without his cap a sudden hazof snow whirled about them. There wa

no sign of the schooner, and they could



scarcely see the broken ice some sixtyards away. They had made the landingwet through, with about half their stores

and it was evident that their boat woulnot carry them across the narrowest lanof water, even if they could havrecovered her, which it scarcely seemed

worth while to attempt. The sea rumblealong the edge of the ice, and they coulnot tell if the latter extended as far as thbeach. They looked at one another untiWyllard spoke.

"We have got the hand-sled, and someat least, of the things," he said. "Thsooner we start for the beach the soonewe'll get there."

It was a relief to load the sled, and whe



hat was done they set off in the hidraces across the ice with the snow

whirling about them. It was arduous wor

apart from the hauling of the load, for thce was rough and broken, and covere

for the most part with softening snowThey had only gum-boots with soft hid

moccasins under them, for snow-shoes aronly used in Eastern Canada, and it takeone a long while to learn to walk on themSometimes they sank almost knee-deepsometimes they slipped and scrambled ouncovered ledges, but they pushed on withe sled bouncing and sliding unevenl

behind them until the afternoon had almosgone.

Then they set up the saturated tent behin

a hummock, and crouched inside it upon



ground sheet while Charly boiled a kettlon the little oil blast stove, and the winhat screamed about it hurled the snow

upon the straining canvas. It, howeverstood the buffeting, and when they haeaten a very simple meal Charly put thstove out and the darkness was onl

broken down when one of them struck match to light his pipe. They had only strip of rubber sheeting between them anhe snow, for the water had got into th

sleeping bags, and their clothes drieupon them with the heat of their bodiesThey said nothing for awhile, and Wyllard

was half-asleep when Charly spoke.

"I've been thinking about that boat," hsaid. "Though I don't know that we coul

have done it, we ought to have tried t



pull her out."

"Why?" asked Wyllard. "She'd hav

been all to pieces, anyway."

"I'm figuring it out like this. If Dampiewasn't up in the shrouds when we mad

he landing he'd sent somebody. We couldsee him up against the sky, but we'd bmuch less clear to him low down with thce and the surf about us. Besides, it wa

snowing quite fast then. Well, I don't knowwhat Dampier saw, but I guess he'd havmade out that we hadn't hauled the boaup, anyway. The trouble is that with th

wind freshening and it getting thick he'have to thrash the schooner out and lie tuntil it cleared. When he runs in again it'quite likely that he'll find the boat and a



oar or two. Seems to me that's going tworry him considerable."

Wyllard, drowsy as he was gettingagreed with this view of the matter. Hrealised that it would have been quitmpossible for Dampier to have sent the

any assistance, and it was merely question whether they should retrace theisteps to the edge of the ice next morninand make him some signal. Against thi

here was the strong probability that hwould not run in if the gale and snowcontinued, and the fact that it wadesirable to make the beach as soon apossible in case the ice broke up beforhey reached it. What was rather more the purpose, he was quietly determined o

pushing on.



"It can't be helped," he said simply"We'll start for the beach as soon as it'daylight."

Charly made no answer, and the brawnydark-skinned Siwash, who spoke Englisreasonably well, only grunted. Unless i

seemed necessary, he seldom saidanything at all. Bred to the sea, and livinon the seal and salmon, as he had done, aadditional hazard or two or an extra strai

on his tough body did not count for mucwith him. He had been accustomed tsleep wet through with icy water, andcrouch for hours with numbed handclenched on the steering-paddle while thong sea canoe scudded furiously over th

big combers before bitter gale or drivin

snow. Wyllard, who rolled over, pulled a



wet sleeping-bag across him, and aftehat there was silence in the little rockinent.

In the meanwhile, Charly's deductionhad been proved correct, for when thbreeze freshened Dampier climbed int

he shrouds. He had noticed the ominoublackness to windward, and knew what imeant, which was why he had hauled reef in the schooner's mainsail down, an

now kept her out a little from the ice. Ahe light faded he found it very difficult t

see the boat against the white wash of thseas that recoiled from the ice, but whehe snow was whirling about him h

decided that she was in some peril unlesher crew could pull her round the point. I

was evident that this would be a difficul



matter, though he had only an occasionaglimpse of her now. He waved an arm tohe helmsman, who understood that he wa

o run the schooner in; there was a rattle oblocks as the booms swung out, and as thSelache sped away before the rapidlfreshening breeze it seemed to Dampie

hat he saw the boat hurled upon the iceThen a blinding haze of snow shut oueverything, and he came down with a run.

He stood for several minutes gazinforward grim in face beside the wheel, buhe could see nothing except the filmwhiteness and the tops of the seas that hasteadily been getting steeper. Thschooner was driving furiously dowupon the ice, but it was evident to him tha

o send Wyllard any assistance was utterl



beyond his power. He could have hove thschooner to while he got the bigger boaover, and two men might have pulled he

owards the ice with the breeze astern ohem, but it was perfectly clear that the

could neither have made a landing nohave pulled her back again. It was also

hough this appeared of less consequenceuncertain whether he and the other macould have brought the schooner round ohave got more sail off her, which wouldas he recognised, very soon have to bdone. Still, he stood on while the snowgrew thicker until they heard the wash o

he sea upon the ice close to lee of themand then it was a hard-clenched hand hraised in sign to the helmsman.

"On the wind. Haul lee sheets!" he said.



She came round a little, heading off thce, and when she drove away with th

foam seething white beneath on

depressed rail and the spray whirling higabout her plunging bows, there was curious tense look in the white men's faceas they gazed into the thickening whit

haze to lee of her.

They thrashed her out until Dampiedecided that there was sufficient wate

between him and the ice, and then strippemost of the sail off her, and she lay to untinext morning, when they once more gosail on her and ran in again. The breezhad fallen a little, it was rather clearerand they picked up the point, though it hasomewhat changed its shape. Then the

got a boat over, and the two men who



went off in her found a few broken planksa couple of oars, and Charly's capwashing up and down in the surf. They ha

very little doubt as to what that meant.

CHAPTER XXV.

NEWS OF DISASTER.

When the boat reached the schooneDampier went off with one of the men, ancontrived to make a landing on the icwith difficulty only to find it covered wit

a trackless sheet of slushy snow. Thoug



he floundered shorewards a mile or twhere was nothing except the shattere

boat to suggest what had befallen Wyllard

and his companions, but the skipper, whoretraced his steps with a heavy heart, haittle doubt in his mind. After that h

waited two days, until a strong breez

blew him off the ice, which was rapidlbreaking up, and then stood out for opewater, where he hove the Selache to for week or so. Then he proceedenorthwards to the inlet fixed upon.

He was convinced that this was uselessbut as the opening was almost clear of iche sailed the schooner in, and spent week or two scouring the surroundincountry. He found it a desolation, stil

partly covered with slushy snow, out o



which ridges of volcanic rock rose herand there. On two of these spots a couplof days' march from the schooner, he mad

a depôt of provisions, and raised a beacoof piled-up stones beside them. At timewhen it was clear he could see the top of great range high up against the Western

sky, but those times were rare. For thmost part, the wilderness was swept brain or wrapped in clammy fog.

There was, however, no sign oWyllard, and at length Dampier, comingback jaded and dejected from anothefruitless search, after the time agreed upohad expired, shut himself up alone for couple of hours in the little cabin. He wacertain now that Wyllard and hi

companions had been drowned whil



attempting to make a landing on the icesince they would have joined him at thnlet as arranged had this not been th

case. The distance was by no means greaand there were no Russian settlements ohat part of the coast. He sat very stil

with a clenched hand upon the little table

and a set face, balancing conjecturagainst conjecture, and then regretfulldecided that there was only one coursopen to him. It was dark when he went upon deck again, but the men were sittinsmoking about the windlass forward.

"You can heave some of that cable inboys," he said. "We'll clear out foVancouver at sun-up."

They said nothing, but they shipped th



evers, and Dampier went back to thcabin, for the clank of the windlass anhe ringing of the cable jarred upon him.

Early next morning the Selache stood ouo sea, and once they had left the fog an

rain which hung about the coast behind

she carried fine weather with her acroshe Pacific. On reaching Vancouver

Dampier had some trouble with thauthorities, to whom it was necessary t

report the drowning of three of his crewbut he was more fortunate than hexpected, and after placing the schooner ihe hands of a broker for sale, he left th

city one evening on the Atlantic trainThree days later, he was driving acroshe prairie towards the Hasting

homestead, and, as it happened, it



nmates were sitting together in the bigeneral room after supper, when thwaggon he had hired swung into sight ove

he crest of a rise.

It was a still, hot evening, and as thwindows were open wide a faint beat o

hoofs came up across the tall wheat andusty prairie before the waggon toppehe rise. Hastings, who lay in a cane chai

near the window, with his pipe in hi

hand, looked up as he heard it.

"Somebody driving in," he said. "shouldn't be astonished if it's Gregory. H

alked about coming over the last time saw him."

"If he wants to talk about a deal i



wheat, he can stay away," said MrsHastings with a certain dryness. "If all onhears is true, he has lost quite a few o

Harry's dollars on the market lately."

Hastings looked somewhat troubled ahis. "I'd sooner think it was his ow

dollars he'd thrown away."

"That's quite out of the question. Hhasn't any."

"Well," said Hastings, with an air oreflection, "I'll get Sproatly to maknquiries. He'll probably be along wit

Winifred this evening, and if he finds thaGregory is getting in rather deep I'll hava word or two with him. Anyway, I canhave him wasting Harry's money, and



have some right to protest as one of thexecutors."

Agatha started at the last word. It had aominous ring, and she fancied thaHastings had noticed the effect it had oher, for he seemed to glance at he

curiously. Turning from him, she rose andwalked quietly towards the window.

The wheat stretched across th

foreground, tall and darkly green, anbeyond it the white grass ran back to thrise, which cut sharp against a red ansmoky glow. The sun had dipped som

ittle time ago, and already there was wonderful exhilarating coolness in the airSomehow the sight reminded her oanother evening, when she had looked ou



across the prairie from a seat at Wyllard'able, almost a year ago.

In the meanwhile, a waggon wadrawing nearer down the long slope of thrise, and the beat of hoofs which grewsteadily louder in a sharp staccato mad

he memories clearer. She had heardDampier riding in the night Wyllard hadreceived his summons, and now shwondered who the approaching strange

was, and what his business could be. Shdid not know why, but she scarcelyhought it was Gregory.

Presently Hastings looked round again"It's the team Bramfield hires out at thsettlement," he said. "None of our friendwould get him to drive them in. Ther



seems to be two men in the waggonBramfield will be one. I can't make out thother."

Mrs. Hastings, who was evidentlbecoming curious about the unexpecteguest, walked forward in turn, and the

stood watching the waggon until Agathmade a little abrupt movement.

"It's Captain Dampier," she said.

Then she stood tensely still, with lipslightly parted, and a strained look in heeyes, while Hastings gazed at the waggo

for another moment or two.

"Yes," he said, and his voice was harsh"it's Dampier. The other man's surel



Bramfield. Harry's not with him."

Once more he glanced at Agatha, who

urned away, and sat down in the neareschair. She said nothing, and there was aoppressive silence, through which the beaof hoofs and rattle of wheels rang mor

distinctly.

In another few minutes Dampier came inwhile his companion drove off to th

stables. He shook hands with Agatha andMrs. Hastings diffidently.

"You remember me?" he said.

"Of course," said Mrs. Hastings, with race of sharpness. "Where's Harry?"

The skipper spread a hard hand out, an



sat down heavily.

"That," he said, "is what I have to tel

you. He asked me to."

"He asked you to?" said Agatha, andhough her voice was strained there wa

relief in it.

The skipper made a little gesture, whicseemed to beseech her patience.

"Yes," he said, "if—anything wenwrong—he told me I was to come here tMrs. Hastings."

Agatha turned her head away, but MrsHastings saw the laces which hunbeneath her neck sharply rise and fall.



"Then," she said, "something has gonwrong?"

"About as wrong as it could," anDampier quietly met her gaze. "Wyllardand two other men are drowned."

He broke off abruptly, and Mrs. Hastingfancied she saw Agatha shiver, but inanother moment or two the girl turneslowly round with a drawn white face. I

was, however, Hastings who spokealmost sternly.

"Go on," he said.

"I'm to tell you all?"

This time it was Agatha who broke in.



"Yes," she said with a curious quietneshat struck the rest as being strained an

unnatural, "you must tell us all."

Dampier, who appeared to shrink frohis task, commenced awkwardly, but hgained coherence and force of expressio

as he proceeded. At least, he made theunderstand something of the griresolution which had animated WyllardHe pictured, in terse seaman's words, th

ittle schooner plunging to windward oveong phalanxes of icy seas, or crawlin

white with snow through the blinding fogHis companions saw the big comberumbling ready to break short upon th

dipping bows out of the dark, and halffrozen men struggling for dear life wit

folds of madly thrashing sail. The picture



were, however, necessarily somewhablurred and hazy, for after all only an epipoet could fittingly describe the things tha

must be done and borne at sea, and epipoets—it is, perhaps, a pity—are not bren the forecastle. When he reached the las

scene he gained almost dramatic power

and Agatha's face grew strangely whitand tense. She saw the dim figures pullinn the flying spray beneath the wall of ice

"We ran her in," he added, "with thesnow blinding us. It was working up for heavy blow, and as we'd have to beat heout we couldn't take sail off her. We stoodon until we heard the sea along the edge ohe ice, and then there was nothing to d

but jam her on the wind and thrash he

clear. There was only a plank or two o



he boat, an oar, and Charly's cap, whewe came back again!"

"After all, though the boat was smashedhey might have got out," Hasting

suggested.

"Well," said Dampier simply, "it didn'seem likely. The ice was sharp andragged, and there was a long wash of seaA man's not tough enough to stand much o

hat kind of hammering."

Agatha's face grew a little whiter, buDampier, who had paused, went on again

"Anyway," he said, "they didn't turn upat the inlet as we'd fixed, and that decidehe thing. If Wyllard had been alive, h



surely would have done."

"Isn't it just possible that he might hav

fallen into the hands of the Russians?asked Hastings.

"I naturally thought of that, but so far a

he chart shows there isn't a settlemenwithin leagues of the spot. Besidessupposing the Russians had got him, howcould I have helped him? They'd have sen

him off in the first place to one of thbigger settlements in the South, and if thauthorities couldn't have connected hiwith any illegal sealing they'd no doub

have managed to send him across to Japaby and bye. In that case, he'd have gohome without any trouble."



He paused, and it was significant that hurned to Agatha with a little deprecator

gesture.

"No," he added, "there was nothing could do."

It was evident that Agatha acquitted himbut she asked a question.

"Captain Dampier," she said, "had yo

any expectation of finding those three mewhen you sailed the second time?"

"No," said the bronzed sailorman, wit

an impressive quietness, "I hadn't any, anddon't think Wyllard had either. Still, he

meant to make quite certain." He spread hard hand out forcibly. "He felt he had to.



He gazed at Agatha, and sawcomprehension in her eyes.

"Yes," she said, "and when you havesaid that, as you have done, you coulhave said very little more of any man."

Then she turned her head away frohem, and once more there was for a few

moments a heavy silence in the room. Icost the girl a painful effort to sit stil

apparently unmoved, but there wastrength in her, and she would not betraher distress. She felt that the latter must bquietly grappled with. It was almos

overwhelming, horribly acute, but therwas mingled with it a faint consolatorhrill of pride, for it was clear that the ma

who had loved her had done a splendi



hing. He had given all that had been givehim—and she knew she would neveforget that phrase of his—willingly, and i

seemed to her that the gifts he had beeentrusted with were rare and preciouones—steadfast, unflinching couragecompassion, and the fine sense of honou

which had sent him out on that forlorhope. He had gone down, unyielding anundismayed—she felt curiously sure ohat—amidst the blinding snow, but thi

was his vindication which had crownehim with immortal laurels.

Then Mrs. Hastings rose, and set foobefore Dampier, while by and bySproatly and Winifred arrived and werold the story. After that Dampier, who

seemed to be a man of tact, stood up. H



had already, when asked by MrsHastings, promised to stay with them day or two.

"Well," he said, "it seems to me you'lnaturally want to talk over things. If you'lexcuse me, I'll take a stroll across th

prairie."

He went out, and Hastings who lightehis pipe lay back in his chair and looke

at the rest.

"Harry's friends are numerous, buwe're, perhaps, the nearest, and, a

Dampier said, we have to considehings," he said. "To begin with, there's a

certain possibility that he has escapedafter all."



He saw the little abrupt movement thaAgatha made, and went on rather morquickly.

"Gregory, of course, has control at thRange until we have proof of Harry'death, though the latter made a provis

hat if there was no word of the partwithin eighteen months after he had sailedor within six months of the time Dampiehad landed him, we could assume it, afte

which the will he handed me would takeffect," he added. "This, it is evidenteaves Gregory in charge for some month

yet, but it seems to me it's our duty to sehe doesn't fling away Harry's property've reasons for believing that he has bee

doing it lately."



He looked at Sproatly, who sat silent moment or two.

"I'm rather awkwardly placed," the lattesaid at length. "You see, there's no doubhat I'm indebted to Gregory."

Winifred turned to him with impatiencn her eyes. "Then," she said severely

"you certainly shouldn't have been, and iought to be quite clear that nobody wishe

you to do anything that would hurt him.She looked at Hastings. "In case the wilakes effect, who does the property go to?

Hastings appeared embarrassed. "That,he objected, "is a thing I'm not warranten telling you in the meanwhile."



A suggestive gleam crept into Winifred'eyes, but it vanished and her mannebecame authoritative when she turne

back to Sproatly.

"Jim," she said, "you will tell MrHastings all you know."

Sproatly made a gesture of resignation"After all," he admitted, "I think it'necessary. Gregory, as I've told you

already, put up a big mortgage on hiplace, and in view of the price of wheaand the state of his crop, it's evident thahe must have had some difficulty i

meeting the interest, unless—and one owo things suggest this—he paid it wit

Harry's money. Of course, as Harry gavhim a share, there's no reason why h



shouldn't do this so long as he does nooverdraw that share. There's no doubthowever, that he has lost a good deal o

money on the wheat market."

"Has he lost any of Harry's?" MrsHastings asked.

Sproatly hesitated. "I'm afraid it'practically certain."

Then Winifred broke in. "Yes," she said"he has lost a great deal. Hamilton knowalmost everything that's going on, and I got out of him. He's a friend of Wyllard's

and seems very vexed with Gregory."

The others said nothing for a moment owo, and then Mrs. Hastings spoke again.



"In a general way," she said, "most of udon't keep much in the bank, and thaexpedition must have cost Harry a goo

deal. How would Gregory get hold of thmoney before harvest?"

"Edmonds, who holds his mortgage

would let him have it," said Sproatly.

"But wouldn't he be afraid of Gregornot being able to pay if the market wen

against him?"

Sproatly looked very thoughtful. "Tharrangement Wyllard made with Gregor

would, perhaps, give Edmonds a claiupon the Range if Gregory borrowed anmoney in his name. I almost think that'what he's scheming for. The man's cunnin



enough for anything. I don't like him."

Then Hastings stood up with an air o

resolution. "Yes," he said, "I'm mosafraid you're quite correct. Anyway, I'ldrive over in a day or two and have a talwith Gregory."

After that they separated, for Hastingstrolled away to join Dampier, andSproatly and Winifred walked out on to

he prairie. When they had left the houshe man turned to his companion.

"Why did you insist upon me telling the

what I did?" he asked.

"Oh!" said Winifred, "I had severareasons. For one thing, when I first cam



out feeling very forlorn and friendless, iwas Wyllard who sent me to the elevatorand they really treat me very decently."

"They?" said Sproatly with resentment ihis face. "If you mean Hamilton, it seemo me that he treats you with an excess o

decency that there's no occasion for."

Winifred laughed. "In any case, hdoesn't drive me out here every two o

hree weeks, though"—and she glanced aher companion provocatively—"he oncor twice suggested that he would like to."

"I suppose you pointed out hipresumption?"

"No," said Winifred with an air o



reflection, "I didn't go quite so far as thatAfter all, the man is my employer; I had thandle him tactfully."

"He won't be your employer a weeafter the implement people open their newdepôt," said Sproatly resolutely

"Anyway, we're getting away from thsubject. Have you any more reasons foconcerning yourself about what Gregordoes with Wyllard's property?"

"I've one; I suppose you don't know whhe has left at least a part of it to?"

Sproatly started as an idea crept into himind.

"I wonder if you're right?" he said.



"I feel reasonably sure of it," anWinifred smiled. "In fact, that's partly wh

don't want Gregory to throw any more o

Wyllard's money away. In the meanwhileyou have done all I expect from you."

"Then Hastings is to go on with th

hing?"

"Hastings," Winifred assured him, "wilfail—just as you would. This is a matte

which requires to be handled delicately—and effectively."

"Then who is going to undertake it?"

Winifred laughed. "Oh," she said, "woman, naturally. I'm going back by andbye to have a word or two with Mrs



Hastings."

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE RESCUE.

Winifred's views were shortly provedcorrect, for Hastings, who drove over the Range a day or two after her visit

came back rather disturbed in temper aftewhat he described as a very unsatisfactornterview with Hawtrey.

"I couldn't make the man hear reason,



he informed his wife. "In fact, hpractically told me that the thing was nconcern of mine. I assured him that i

concerned me directly as one of thexecutors of Harry's will, and I'm afraid afterwards indulged in a fewpersonalities. I expect that blame

mortgage broker has got a very strong holon him."

Mrs. Hastings looked reflective. "You

have never told me anything about thwill."

"If I haven't, it wasn't for want o

prompting," said Hastings drily. "Still, thwill was sealed, and handed me by Harron the express understanding that it wanot to be opened until we had proof that h



was dead or the six months mentioned haexpired. If he turned up it would, ocourse, be handed back to him. He mad

me promise solemnly that I would nooffer the least hint as to its provisions tanybody."

Mrs. Hastings made a gesture oresignation. "In that case I suppose I musbe content, but he might have made aexception of—me. Anyway, I think I see

how we can put what appears to be a littlnecessary pressure upon Gregory." Theshe turned again to her husband ratheabruptly. "After all, is it worth while fome to trouble about the thing?"

Hastings was taken off his guard. "Yes,he said decidedly, "if you can put an



pressure on Gregory I guess it would bvery desirable to do it as soon apossible."

"Then you think that Harry may turn upafter all?"

"I do," said Hastings gravely; "I donknow why. In any case it's highlydesirable—for several reasons—thaGregory shouldn't fling his propert

away."

Mrs. Hastings smiled. "Well," she said"I'll think over it. I'll probably get Agath

o see what she can do in the first place."

She saw a trace of uncertainty in hehusband's face, which was, however, wha



she had expected.

"As you like," he said. "Something mus

be done, but on the whole I'd rather yodidn't trouble Agatha about the matter; iwould be wiser."

Mrs. Hastings asked no more questionsShe fancied she understood the situationand she had Agatha's interests at heart, foshe had grown very fond of the girl. Ther

was certainly one slight difficulty in thway of what she meant to do, but shdetermined to disregard it, though shadmitted that it might cause Agatha som

embarrassment afterwards. During thafternoon she found the latter alone, ansat down beside her.



"My dear," she said, "I wonder if I mayask whether you are quite convinced thaHarry's dead?"

She felt that the question was necessaryhough it seemed rather a cruel one, an

she saw signs of tension in the girl'

expression.

"No," said the latter very quietly; "I canquite bring myself to believe it."

"Then, since you heard what Sproatlsaid, you would be willing to do anythinhat appeared possible to prevent Gregor

hrowing Harry's dollars away?"

"Yes," said Agatha, "I have beenhinking about it." A little sparkle o



disdainful anger crept into her eyes"Gregory seems to have been actinshamefully."

"Then as he won't listen to Allen, wmust get Sally to impress that fact on him.

"Sally?" said Agatha in evidenastonishment.

Mrs. Hastings smiled. "I don't think yo

understand Sally as well as I do. Ocourse, like the rest of us, she falls a lonway short of perfection, and—though it's difficult subject—there's no doubt that he

conduct in leading Gregory on while hwas still engaged to you was hardly quitcorrect. After all, however, you owe hesomething for that."



"It isn't very hard to forgive her for it,said Agatha quietly.

"Well, I want you to realise Sally. Righor wrong, she's fond of the man. Ocourse, I've told you this already, but must try to make it clear how that fac

bears upon the business in hand. Sallcertainly fought for him, and there's ndoubt that one could find fault witseveral things she did; but the point is tha

she's evidently determined on making thmost of him now she has got him. In somrespects, at least, she's absolutely straigh—one hundred cents to the dollar is whaAllen says of her—and although you mighperhaps not have expected this, I believt would hurt her horribly to feel tha

Gregory was squandering money tha



didn't strictly belong to him."

"Then you mean to make her understan

what he is doing?"

"No," said Mrs. Hastings; "I want you tdo it. I've reasons for believing that you

nfluence would go further with her thamine. For one thing, I fancy she is feelinrather ashamed of herself."

Agatha looked thoughtful. She hacertainly not credited Sally witpossessing any fine sense of honour, bushe was willing to accept her companion'

assurance.

"The situation," she pointed out, "irather a delicate one. You wish to expose



Gregory's conduct to the girl he is going tmarry, though, as you admit, thexplanation will probably be painful t

her. Can't you understand that the courssuggested is a particularly difficult anrepugnant one—to me?"

"I've no doubt of it," said Mrs. Hastings"Still, I think it must be adopted—foseveral reasons. In the first place, I fanchat if we can pull Gregory up now w

will save him from involving himselrretrievably. After all, perhaps, you owe

him the effort. Then I think that we all owsomething to Harry, and we can, at leastendeavour to carry his wishes out. He laidown what was to be done with hipossessions in a will, and he never coul

have anticipated Gregory dissipating the



as he is doing."

The last reason, as she had foreseen

proved irresistible to Agatha, and shmade a sign of concurrence.

"If you will drive me over I will d

what I can," she said.

Now she had succeeded Mrs. Hastingost no time, and they set out for th

Creightons' homestead next day, whilsoon after they reached it she tactfullcontrived that Sally should be left alonwith Agatha. They stood outside the hous

ogether when the latter turned to hecompanion.

"Sally," she said, "there is somethin



hat I must tell you."

Sally glanced at her face, and the

walked quietly forward until the log barhid them from the house. Then she sadown upon a pile of straw in its shadowand signed to Agatha that she should take

place beside her.

"Now," she said sharply, "you can go ont's about Gregory?"

Agatha, who found it very difficult tbegin, though she had been well primed bHastings on the previous evening, sa

down amidst the straw, and looked abouher for a moment or two. It was a hoafternoon, dazzlingly bright, and almosbreathlessly still. In front of her the dar



green wheat rolled waist-high, and beyont the vast sweep of whitened grass rolle

back to the sky-line flooded with light. Fa

away a team and a waggon slowly moveacross it, but that was the only sign of lifeand no sound from the house reached theo break the heavy stillness.

Then she nerved herself to the effort, anspoke quietly for several minutes beforshe glanced at her companion. It was ver

evident that the latter had understood alhat she had said, for she sat very stil

with a hard, set face.

"Oh!" she said, "if I'd thought you'come to tell me this because you wervexed with me, I'd know what to do."



This was what Agatha had dreaded. Icertainly looked as if she had come triumph over her rival's humiliation, bu

Sally made it clear that she acquitted heof that intention.

"Still," she said, "I know that wasn't th

reason, and I'm not mad with—you. Ihurts"—and she made a little abrupmovement—"but I know it's true." Theshe turned to Agatha suddenly. "Why did

you do it?"

"I thought you might save Gregory, if old you."


http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/bindloss-harold-hawtreys-deputy 816/1010"'I thought you might save Gregory, if



told you.'"

"That was all?" and Sally looked at he

with incredulous eyes.

"No," said Agatha simply, "that was onlpart. It did not seem right that Gregor

should go against Wyllard's wishes, andgamble the Range away on the wheamarket."

She admitted it without hesitation, foshe realised now exactly what haanimated her to seek this painfunterview. She was fighting Wyllard'

battle, and that fact sustained her.

Sally winced. "Yes," she said, "I guesyou had to tell me. He was fond of you



One could be proud of that. Harry Wyllarnever did anything low down and mean."

Agatha did not resent her candourAlthough this was a thing she woulscarcely have credited a little while agoshe saw that the girl felt the contras

between her lover's character and that ohe man whose place he had taken, an

regretted it. Then Agatha's eyes grew rifle hazy.

"Wyllard, they think, is dead," she saidn a low, strained voice. "You have

Gregory still."

Sally looked at her with unveilecompassion, and Agatha did not shrinfrom it.



"Yes," she said, with a simplicity thabecame her, "and Gregory must havsomeone to—take care of him. I must do i

f I can."

There was no doubt that Agatha wastirred. This half-taught girl's quie

acceptance of the burden that many womemust carry once more made her almosashamed.

"We will leave it to you," she said.

Then it became evident that there waanother side to Sally's character, for he

manner changed, and the suggestivhardness crept back into her eyes.

"Well," she said, "I'd most been



expecting something of this kind when heard that man Edmonds was going to thRange. He has got a pull on Gregory, bu

he's surely not going to feel quite happwhen I get hold of him."

She rose in another moment, and, sayin

nothing further, walked back towards thhouse, in front of which they came upoMrs. Hastings. Sally looked at the lattesignificantly.

"I'm going over to the Range aftesupper," she said.

Mrs. Hastings drove away with Agathaand said very little to her during thourney, but an hour after they had reachedhe homestead she slipped quietly into th



girl's room, and found her lying in a bichair, sobbing bitterly. She sat down closbeside her, and laid a hand upon he

shoulder.

"I don't think Sally could have saianything to trouble you like this," she said

It was a moment or two before Agathurned a wet, white face towards her, and

saw gentle sympathy in her eyes. Ther

was, she felt, no cause for reticence.

"No," she said, "it was the contrasbetween us. She has Gregory."

Mrs. Hastings made a sign ocomprehension. "And you have lost Harr—but I think you have not lost hi



altogether. We do not know that he is dead—but even if it is so, it was all that wafinest in him he offered you. It is your

still."

She broke off, and sat silent a moment owo before she went on again.

"My dear, it is, perhaps, cold comfortand I am not sure that I can make what feel quite clear. Still, Harry was only

human, and it is almost inevitable that, hat all turned out differently, he would hav

said and done things that would havoffended you. Now he has left you

purged and stainless memory—one I thinwhich must come very near to the realityThe man who went up there—for an ideaa fantastic point of honour—sloughed of



every taint of the baseness that hampermost of us in doing it. It was a machanged and uplifted above all petty thing

by a high chivalrous purpose, who madhat last grim journey."

Agatha realised the truth of this. Alread

Wyllard's memory had becometherealised, and she treasured it as a verfine and precious thing. Still, though hnow wore immortal laurels, that woul

not content her when all her human naturcried out for his bodily presence. Shwanted him, as she had grown to love himn the warm, erring flesh, and the vague

splendid vision was cold and far remoteThere was a barrier greater than that ocrashing ice and bitter water betwee

hem.



"Oh!" she said. "I have felt that. I try tfeel it always—but just now it's noenough."

Then she turned her face away with bitter sob, and Mrs. Hastings who stoopeand kissed her went out quietly. She knew

what had come about, and that the girl habroken down at last, after months of strain

In the meanwhile, it happened tha

Edmonds, the mortgage broker, drovover to the Range, and found Hawtrewaiting him in Wyllard's room. It waearly in the evening, and he could see th

hired men busy outside tossing prairie hafrom the waggons into the great barn. Thewere half-naked and grimed with dust, buHawtrey, who was dressed in stor



clothes, had evidently taken no share iheir labours. When Edmonds came in hurned to him with anxiety in his face.

"Well?" he said sharply.

"Market's a little stiffer," said Edmonds

He sat down and stretched out his hanowards the cigar-box on the table, whil

Hawtrey waited until he had picked on

out with very evident impatience.

"Still moving up?" he asked.

Edmonds nodded. "It's the other folksast stand," he said. "With the whea

ripening as it's doing, the flood that wilpour in before the next two months are ou

will sweep them off the market. I was hal



afraid from your note that this little rallhad some weight with you, and that as onresult of it you meant to cover now."

"That," admitted Hawtrey, "was in mmind."

"Then," said his companion, "it's a pity.

Hawtrey leaned upon the table withesitation in his face and attitude. He ha

neither the courage nor the steadfastness tmake a gambler, and every fluctuation ohe market swayed him to and fro. He ha

a good deal of wheat to deliver by an

bye, and, for prices had fallen steadiluntil a week or two ago, he could stilsecure a very desirable margin if hbought in against his sales now



Unfortunately, however, he had once owice lost heavily in an unexpected rally

and he greatly desired to recoup himself

Then, he had decided, nothing woulempt him to take part in another deal.

"If I hold on and the market stiffen

further I'll be awkwardly fixed," he said"Wyllard made a will, and in a fewmonths I'll have to hand everything over this executors. There would naturally b

unpleasantness over a serious shortage."

Edmonds smiled. He had handled himan cleverly, and had now a reasonabl

secure hold upon him and the Range, buhe was far from satisfied. If Hawtremade a further loss he would in alprobability become irretrievabl



nvolved.

"Then," he pointed out, "there's ever

reason why you should try to get straight."

Hawtrey admitted it. "Of course," hsaid. "You feel sure I could do it by

holding on?"

His companion seldom answered question of this kind. It was apt to lead t

unpleasantness afterwards.

"Well," he said, "Beeman, and Oliphantand Barstow are operating for a fall. On

would fancy that you were safe in doinwhat they do. When men of their weighsell forward figures go down."

This was correct, as far as it went, bu



Edmonds was quite aware that thgentlemen alluded to usually played a verdeep and obscure game. He had als

reasons for believing that they were doint now. It was, however, evident that hi

companion's hesitation was vanishing.

"It's a big hazard, but I feel greatlempted to hang on," he said.

Edmonds, who disregarded this, sa

smoking quietly. Since he was tolerablcertain as to what the result would be, hfelt it was now desirable to let Hawtredecide for himself, in which case it woul

be impossible for the latter to reproachim afterwards. Wheat, it seemed verprobable, would fall still further when thharvest commenced, but he had reason



for believing that the market would rallfirst. In that case Hawtrey, who had soldforward largely, would fall altogether into

his hands, and he looked forward witvery pleasurable anticipation to enforcinhis claim upon the Range. In thmeanwhile he was unobtrusively watchin

his companion's face, and it had becomevident that in another moment or twHawtrey would adopt the courssuggested, when there was a rattle owheels outside. Edmonds, who saw broncho team and a waggon appear frobehind the barn, realised that he mus

decide the matter now.

"As I want to reach Lander's before it'dark I'll have to get on," he sai

carelessly. "If you'll give me a letter to th



broker, I'll send it on to him."

Next moment a clear voice rose u

somewhere outside. "I guess you neednworry," it said, "I'll go right in."

Then, while Gregory started, Sall

walked into the room.

Edmonds was disconcerted, but he madher a little inclination, and then sat dow

again, quietly determined to wait, for hfancied there was hostility in the swifglance she flashed at him.

"That's quite a smart team you werdriving, Miss Creighton," he said.

Sally, who disregarded this, turned to

Hawtrey.



"What's he doing here?" she asked.

"He came over on a little matter o

business," said Hawtrey.

"You have been selling wheat again?"

Hawtrey looked embarrassed, for hemanner was not conciliatory. "Well," headmitted, "I have sold some."

"Wheat you haven't got?"

Hawtrey did not answer, and Sally sadown. Her manner suggested that sh

meant to thoroughly investigate the matterand Edmonds, who would have greatlpreferred to get rid of her, decided that ahis appeared impossible he would appea

o her cupidity. The Creightons wer



somewhat grasping folks, and he haheard of her engagement to Hawtrey.

"If you will permit me I'll try texplain," he said. "We'll say that you havereason for believing that wheat will gdown and you tell a broker to sell i

forward at a price a little below the actuaone. If other people do the same it dropfaster, and before you have to deliver youcan buy it in at less than you sold it at. A

good many dollars can be picked up thaway."

"It looks easy," Sally admitted, wit

something in her manner which led him tfancy he might win her over. "Of courseprices have been falling. Gregory habeen selling down?"



"He has. In fact, there's already a bimargin to his credit," said Edmondunsuspectingly.

"That is, if he bought in now he'd havcleared—several thousand dollars?"

Edmonds told her exactly how much, anhen started in sudden consternation wit

rage in his heart, for she turned tHawtrey imperiously.

"Then you'll write your broker to buy iright away," she said.

There was an awkward silence, durinwhich the two men looked at one anotheuntil Edmonds spoke.

"Are you wise in suggesting this, Mis



Creighton?" he asked.

Sally laughed harshly. "Oh yes," sh

said, "it's a sure thing. And I don't suggesttell him to get it done."

She turned again to Hawtrey, who sa

very still looking at her with a flush in hiface. "Take your pen and give him thaetter to the broker now."

There was this in her favour thaHawtrey was to some extent relieved bher persistence. He had not the nerve tmake a successful speculator, and he had

already felt uneasy about the hazard hwould incur by waiting. Besides, althougprices had slightly advanced, he coulstill secure a reasonable margin if h



covered his sales. In any case, he did ashe bade him, and in another minute owo he handed Edmonds an envelope.

The latter, who rose, took it from hiquietly, for he was one who could facdefeat.

"Well," he said, with a gesture oresignation, "I'll send the thing on. If MisCreighton will excuse me, I'll tell you

man to get out my waggon."

Then he went out, and Sally turned tHawtrey with the colour in her cheeks an

a flash in her eyes.

"It's Harry Wyllard's money," she said.



CHAPTER XXVII.

IN THE WILDERNESS.

A bitter wind was blowing wheWyllard stood outside the little tent thmorning after he had made a landing o

he ice, watching the grey daylight breaamidst a haze of sliding snow. He was toeeward of the straining canvas whic

partly sheltered him, but the raw colstruck through him to the bone, and he wastiff and sore from his exertions during thprevious day. Most of his joints ached

unpleasantly, and his clothing had no



quite dried upon him with the warmth ohis body. He was also conscious of strong desire to crawl back into the ten

and go to sleep again, but that was one iwould clearly not be wise to indulge insince they were, he fancied, still somdistance off the beach, and the ice migh

commence to break up at any moment. Istretched away before him, seamed bfissures and serrated ridges here anhere, for a few hundred yards, and the

was lost in the sliding snow, and as hgazed at it all his physical nature shranfrom the prospect of the journey throug

he frozen desolation.

Then with a little shiver he crawleback into the tent where his tw

companions were crouching beside th



cooking lamp. The feeble light of itsputtering blue flame touched their facewhich were graver than usual, but Charl

urned and looked up as he came in.

"Wind's dropping," said Wyllard curtly"We'll start as soon as you have made

breakfast. We must try to reach the beacho-night."

Charly made no answer, though th

dusky-skinned Siwash grunted, and in few more minutes they silentlcommenced their meal. It was promptlfinished, and they struck the tent, an

packed it with their sleeping bags anprovisions upon the sled, and then, takinup the traces, set out across the ice. Thight had grown a little clearer now, and



he snow was thinning, but it still whirleabout them, and lay piled in drawn-ouwreaths to lee of every hummock o

ragged ridge. They floundered throughem knee-deep, and in the softer placehe weight upon the traces grew

unpleasantly heavy. That, however, wa

not a thing any of them felt the least desiro complain of, and it was indeed a matte

of regret to them that they were noharnessed to a heavier burden. There waa snow-wrapped desolation in front ohem, and they had lost a number of smal

comforts and part of their provisions i

making a landing. Whether the latter coulby any means be replaced they did noknow, and in the meanwhile it certainldid not seem very probable.



This was, however, an excellent reasofor pushing on as fast as possible, and thestumbled and floundered forward unti

ate in the afternoon, while the ice becammore rugged and broken as theproceeded. The snow had ceased, but thdrifts which stretched across their pat

were plentiful, and they were in the midsof one when it seemed to Wyllard whowas leading that they were sinking mucdeeper than usual. The snow was over thop of his long boots, the sled seemed ver

heavy, and he could hear his comradefloundering savagely. Then there was

cry behind him, and he was jerkesuddenly backwards for a pace or twuntil he flung himself down at full lengtclawing at the snow. After that he wa

drawn back no further, but the strain upo



he trace became almost insupportableand there was still a furious scufflinbehind him.

In a moment or two, however, the straislackened, and looking round he sawCharly waist-deep in the snow. The latte

struggled out with difficulty holding on bhe trace, but the sled had vanished, and i

was with grave misgivings that Wyllardscrambled to his feet. Then, sayin

nothing, they hauled with all their mightand after a tense effort that left thegasping dragged the sled back into sightPart of its load, however, had been lefbehind in the yawning hole.

Charly went back a pace or twcautiously until he once more sank to th



waist, and they had some trouble idragging him clear. Then he sat down ohe sled, and Wyllard stood still looking a

he holes in the snow.

"Did you feel anything under you?" hasked at length in a jarring voice.

"I didn't," said Charly simply. "It waonly the trace saved me from droppinhrough altogether, but if I'd gone a littl

further I'd have been in the water. Kind osnow bridge over a crevice. We broke iup, and the sled fell through."

Wyllard turned and flung the tent, theisleeping bags, and the few packagewhich had not fallen out off the sled, aftewhich he hastily opened one or two o



hem. His companions looked at them witapprehension in their eyes until he spokagain.

"The provisions may last a week or sof we cut down rations," he said.

He could not remember afterwards ianybody suggested it, and he fancied thahe same idea occurred to all of them a

once, but in another moment or two the

set about undoing the traces from the sledand making them secure about theibodies. Then for half an hour they madperilous attempt after attempt to recove

he lost provisions, and signally failedThe snow broke through continuouslbeneath the foremost man, but it did nobreak away altogether, and they could no



ell what lay beneath it when they hadrawn him out of the hole. When ibecame evident that the attempt wa

useless they held a brief council sitting ohe sled.

"I guess we don't want to go back," sai

Charly. "It's quite likely we've crossed good many of these crevices, and thsnow's getting soft. Besides, Dampier wilhave hauled off and headed for the inlet b

now."

He spoke quietly, though his face wagrim, and then pausing a moment wave

his hand. "It seems to me," he added, "whave got to fetch the inlet while thprovisions last."



"Exactly," said Wyllard. "Since the charshows a river between us and it, thsooner we start the better. If the thaw

holds, the stream will break up the ice ot."

The Indian, who made no suggestion

grunted what appeared to be concurrenceand they silently set to work to reload thsled. That done, they took up the traceand floundered on again into the gatherin

dimness and a thin haze of driving snowDarkness had fallen when they made campagain, and sat, worn-out and aching ievery limb, about the sputtering lamnside the little, straining tent. The meahey made was a very frugal one, and theay down in the darkness after it, for hal

heir store of oil had been left behind i



he crevice. They said very little, for thsecond disaster had almost crushed thcourage out of them, and it was very clea

o all that it would only be by a strenuoueffort they could reach the inlet beforheir provisions quite ran out. They slept

however, and rising in a stinging frost nex

morning set out again on the weary marchbut it was slow travelling, and at noohey left the tent and poles behind.

"In another few days," said Wyllard"we'll leave the sled."

They made the beach that afternoon

hough the only sign of it was the fringe omore ragged ice and the white slopbeyond the latter. A thin haze hung abouhem heavy with frosty rime, and the



could not see more than a quarter of a milahead. When darkness fell they scrapeout a hollow beneath what seemed to be

snow-covered rock, and sat upon theisleeping bags about the cooking lampThen, having eaten, they huddled closogether with part of their aching bodie

upon the sled in a bitter frost, but none ohem slept much that night.

The morning broke clear and warmer

and Wyllard, climbing to the summit of throck, had a brief glimpse of the serratesummits of a great white range that rosout of a dingy greyness to the west ansouth. It, however, faded like a visiowhile he watched it, and turning he lookeout across the rolling wilderness tha

stretched away to the north. Nothing brok



ts gleaming monotony, and there was nosign of life anywhere in the vast expanseBy and bye it narrowed, and when h

clambered down the haze was creeping iagain.

They set out after breakfast, breakin

hrough a thin crust of snow, whicrendered the march almost insuperabldifficult, and they had painfully made eague or two by the approach of night

The snow had grown softer, and thhawing surface would not bear the sled

which sunk in the slush beneath. Still, thefloundered on for a while after darknesfell, and then lay down in a hollowpacked close together, while a fine raipoured down on them.



Somehow they slept, and, though thiwas more difficult, got upon their feeagain when morning came, for of all th

hard things the wanderer in rain-swepbush or frozen wilderness must bear thers none that tests his powers more than th

bracing himself for another day of effort i

he early dawn. Comfortless as the night'air has been, the jaded body craves fo

such faint warmth as it afforded, anfurther rest, the brain is dull and heavyand the aching limbs appear incapable osupporting the weight on them. Difficultieoom appallingly large in the fain

creeping light, courage fails, and the wilgrows feeble. Wyllard and hicompanions felt all this, but it was clear them that they could not dally, with thei

provisions running out, and staggering ou



of camp after a very scanty meal thehauled the sled through the slush thechurned up for an hour or so. Then the

stopped, gasping, the Indian slipped out ohe traces, and Charly, who nodded, cashem loose from him.

"We've hauled that thing about faenough," he said.

Wyllard stood looking at them for

moment or two with a furrowed face and hand that the frost had split tightlclenched. It was evident that they coulhaul the hampering load no further, and h

was troubled by an almost insupportablweariness. Then he made a little unwillinsign of concurrence.



"In that case," he said, "you have tdecide what you'll leave behind."

They discussed it for some minutespartly because it furnished an excuse fositting upon the sled, though none of thehad much doubt as to the result of th

council. It was unthinkable that theshould sacrifice a scrap of the provisionsThen, when each man had lashed a lighoad upon his shoulders with a portion o

he cut-up traces, they set out again, and irained upon them heavily all that day.

During the four following days the

were buffeted by a furious wind, but themperature had risen, and the snow wa

melting fast, and splashing knee-deehrough slush and water they mad



progress. While he stumbled along withe pack-straps galling his shoulders

Wyllard was conscious of little beyond

he unceasing pain in his joints and theaden heaviness of his limbs; but th

recollection of that march haunted him lika horrible nightmare long afterwards

when each sensation and incident emergefrom the haze of numbing misery. Hremembered that he stormed at and almosfought with Charly, who lagged behindnow and then in a fit of languid dejectionand that once he fell heavily, and wasensible of a certain half-conscious regre

hat he was still capable of going on whehe Indian dragged him to his feet againThey rarely spoke to one another, andnoticed nothing beyond the strip of whit

waste, through which uncovered brow



patches commenced to break, immediateln front of them, except when they crosse

some low elevation and looked dow

upon the stretch of dull grey water not faaway on one hand. The breeze, at leashad swept the ice away, and that wareassuring, because it meant that Dampie

would be at the inlet when they reached ithough now and then a horrible fear thaheir strength would fail them or thei

provisions run out first crept in.

Their faces had already grown gaunt anhaggard, and each scanty meal had beefurther cut down to the smallest portiowhich would keep life and power omovement within them. Still, though thweight of it hampered him almos

ntolerably, Wyllard clung to the one rifle



hat they had saved from the disaster at thanding and a dozen cartridges. This was

folly which he and Charly had onc

virulent words about.

At length they came one evening to river which flowed across their path, an

ay down beside it, feeling that the enwas not far away. Except in the eddieand shallows, the ice had broken up, anhe stream swirled by between in ragin

flood, thick with heavy masses which ihad brought down from its higher reachesThey crashed upon the gleaming spurs thahere and there projected from the halfhawn fringe, and smashed with a hars

crackling among the boulders, and therwas no doubt as to what would befall th

stoutest swimmer who might attempt th



passage. So far as Wyllard afterwardremembered, none of them said anythinwhen they lay down among the wet stones

but with the first of the daylight thestarted up stream. The river was not arge one, and it seemed just possible thahey might find a means of crossing highe

up, though they afterwards admitted thahis was a good deal more than the

expected.

During the afternoon the ground rossharply, and the stream flowed out of deep ravine which they followed. Throcks, as far as Wyllard could rememberwere of volcanic origin, and some of thehad crumbled into heaps of ragged debrisThe slope of the ravine became a talus i

was almost impossible to scramble along



and they were forced back upon thboulders and the half-thawn ice in thslacker pools.

Still, they made some progress, anwhen evening drew near found a littlclearer space between rock and river. Th

ndian had in the meanwhile wrenched hifoot or knee, and when at length thestopped to make camp among the rocks iwas some little time before he overtoo

hem. Then he said that he had found thslot of some animal which he fancied hagone up the ravine. What the beast was hdid not seem to know, but he assured thehat it was, at least, large enough to eat

and that appeared to be of the mosmportance then. He would not, however

ake the rifle. Nothing would compel hi



o drag himself another rod that night, hsaid, and the others, who had noticed howhe limped, accepted his statement. He sa

down among the stones with aexpressionless face, and Charly decidehat it was Wyllard's part to try to pick uphe trail.

"You could beat me every time arailing or shooting when we went ashor

on the American side, and I'm not sorry to

et it go at that now," he said.

Wyllard smiled very grimly, "And I'vecarried this rifle a week on top of m

other load. You can't shoot when you'redead played out."

Then they called in the Indian and left i



o him, and saying nothing he gravelpointed to Wyllard.

Charly grinned for the first time iseveral days.

"Well," he said, "in this case I guess I've

no objections to let it be as he suggests."

Wyllard, who said nothing further, tookup the rifle and strode very wearily out o

camp. There was, he fancied, scarcely ahour's daylight left, and already thdimness seemed a little more markedown in the hollow. He, however, found

he slot again, and as there was a wall orock on one side of him up which he dinot think a beast of any kind coulscramble he pushed on up stream besid



he ice. There was nothing except this tguide him, but he was a little surprised tfeel that his perceptions which had bee

dull and dazed the last few days wergrowing clearer. He noticed the differensounds the river made, and picked out thsharp crackle of ice among the stones

hough he had hitherto only been consciouof a hoarse, pulsating roar. The rocks alsoook distinctive shapes instead of loominn blurred masses before his heavy eyes

and he found himself gazing with straineattention into each strip of deeper shadowStill, though he walked cautiously, ther

was no sign of any life in the ravine. Hwas horribly weary, and now and then hset his lips as he stumbled noisily amonhe stones, but he pushed on beside th

water while the deep hollow grew



dimmer and more shadowy.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE UNEXPECTED.

By and bye Wyllard felt a troublesomdizziness creeping over him, and he sadown upon a boulder with the rifle acroshis knees. He had eaten very little durinhe last few days, which had been spent i

arduous exertion, and now the leadeweariness which he had fought agains

since morning threatened to overcom



him. In addition to this, he was oppresseby a black dejection, which, though himind had never been clearer, reacted upo

his failing physical powers, for it wanow unpleasantly evident that he and hicompanions could not reach the inlewhile their provisions held out. There wa

no longer any doubt that he had involvehem in disaster, and the knowledge tha

he had done so was very bitter.

He sat still awhile with haggard face anset lips, gazing up the ravine, for, althoughe scarcely fancied that either of thothers had expected anything else, hshrank from going back as empty-handeas when he had left them. The light wagetting very dim, but he could still see th

ce fringe upon the pool in front of him



and a mass of rock that rose black againshe creeping dusk not very far away

Beyond it on the one side there seemed t

be a waste of stones amidst which a fewwreaths of snow still gleamed lividlyThen a wall of rock scarceldistinguishable in the shadow shut in th

hollow.

The latter was filled with the hoarsroar of the river and the sharp crash an

crackle of stream-driven ice, but by anbye the worn-out man started as he caughanother faint sound which suggested thclink of a displaced stone. His handclosed hard upon the rifle, but he sat verstill, listening with strained attention untihe heard the sound again. Then a thrill ra

hrough him, for he was quite certain of it



meaning. A stone had rolled over higheup the gorge, and he rose and moveforward cautiously, keeping the detached

rock between him and the upper portion ohe ravine. Once or twice a stone clattere

noisily beneath his feet, and he stoppefor a moment or two, wondering wit

ense anxiety whether the sound could bheard at any distance through the roar ohe river. This was a very much grimme

business than crawling through the longrass for a shot at the prairie antelopewhen in case of success it had scarcelseemed worth while to pack the tough an

stringy venison back to the homestead.

By and bye he heard the clatter of displaced stone again, and this time it wa

so distinct and near that it puzzled him



The wild creatures of the waste were, hknew, always alert, and their perceptioof an approaching danger was wonderfu

t seemed strange, since he had heard ithat the beast he was creeping in upo

could apparently not hear him, but hrealised that he must face the hazard of it

doing so, for in another few minutes iwould be too dark to shoot. He had almosreached the rock by this time, and hshifted his grasp on the rifle, holding ihrust forward in front of him whil

crouching low he looked down for a spoon which to set his foot each time h

moved. It would, he knew, be useless togo any further if a stone turned over nowone did, however, and he crept, strun

up to highest tension, into the deepe

gloom behind the rock.



A little pool ran in close beneath thatter from the river, but it was covered

with ice and slushy snow, and treadin

very cautiously he crept across it, anheld his breath as he moved out frobehind the stone. Then he stoppesuddenly, for a man stood face to fac

with him scarcely a stone's throw awayHis fur-clad figure cut sharply against gleaming bank of snow, and he held a gun his hand. Though the light had almos

gone, it was evident to Wyllard that hwas a white man.

They stood very still for several secondgazing at one another, and then the strangedropped the butt of his weapon and calleout sharply. Wyllard, who failed to

understand him, did not move, and h



spoke again. What he said was stilunintelligible, but Wyllard, who had fallen with a few Germans from Minnesota o

he prairie, fancied that he recognised thanguage. He made a sign that it was stil

beyond his comprehension, and thstranger tried again. This time it wa

French he spoke.

"You can come forward, comrade," hesaid.

He did not seem to be hostile, anWyllard, who tossed his rifle into thhollow of his left arm, moved out to mee

him a pace or two.

"You are Russian?" he said, in theanguage the other had used, for French o



a kind is freely spoken in parts of Canada

The man laughed. "That afterwards," h

answered. "It is said so. My name iOverweg—Albrecht Overweg. As to yout appears you do not understand Russian.

Wyllard drew a little nearer, and sadown upon a boulder. Now the tensiohad somewhat slackened his wearineshad once more become almos

nsupportable, and he felt that he mighneed his strength and senses. In thmeanwhile he was somewhat bewildereby the encounter, for it was certainl

astonishing to fall in with a man whspoke three civilised languages and worspectacles in that desolate wilderness.



"No," he said, "it is almost the first timhave heard it."

"Ah," said the other, "there is a certaisignificance in that admission, my friendt is permissible to inquire where yo

have come from, and what you are doin

here?"

Wyllard, who had no desire to give hiany information upon the latter poin

pointed towards the east.

"That is where I come from. As to mbusiness, at the moment you will excus

me. It is perhaps not a rudeness to aswhat is yours?"

The stranger laughed. "Caution, it seems



s necessary; and to the east, where yohave pointed, there is only the sea. I wilhowever, tell you my business. It is th

science, and not"—he seemed to add thiwith a certain significance—"in any waconnected with the administration of thcountry."

Wyllard was conscious of a vast relieon hearing this, but as he was not quitsure that he could believe it, he felt tha

prudence was still advisable. In any casehe could not let the stranger go away untihe had learned whether there were anmore white men with him. He sat stilhinking rather hard for a moment or two.

"You have a camp somewhere near?" heasked at length.



"Certainly," said the other. "You wilcome back with me, or shall I come tyours?"

"There are several of you?"

"Besides myself, two Kamtchadales."

"Then," said Wyllard, "I will come wityou. I have left two comrades a littlfurther down the ravine. Will you wai

until I bring them?"

The stranger made a sign of assent, ansitting down upon a ledge of rock took ou

a cigar. Wyllard now felt more sure ohim, since it was evident that had hmeditated any treachery he woulnaturally have preferred him to make th



visit unattended. In any case, it seemeikely that he would have something to ean his camp.

Wyllard plodded back down the ravineand when he reappeared with the otherOverweg was still sitting there in th

gathering darkness. He greeted them wita wave of his hand, and rising, silently lehe way up the hollow until they came int

sight of a little tent that glimmered beneat

a rock. There was a light inside it, anwo dusky figures were silhouetted againshe canvas. When the party reached it

Overweg drew the flap back, and the lighshone upon his face as he signed them tenter. Wyllard standing still a momenooked at him steadily, and then seeing th

ittle smile in his eyes quietly went in.



After that Overweg called to one of thKamtchadales, who came in and busiehimself about the cooking lamp, while hi

guests sat down with a sense of luxurioucontent among the skins that were spreaupon the ground sheet. After the raw coldoutside the tent was very snug and warm

They said little, however, and Overwemade no attempt at conversation until thKamtchadale laid out a meal, when hwatched them with a smile while they atvoraciously. He had stripped his furs offand sat with his knees drawn up on one ohe skins, a little, plump, round-faced man

with tow-coloured hair, and eyes thagleamed shrewdly behind his spectacles.

"Shall I open another can?" he asked a

ength.



"No," said Wyllard. "We owe youhanks enough already. Provisions ar

evidently plentiful with you."

Overweg nodded. "I have a base campwo or three days' journey back," he said

"It is possible that I shall make a depôt

We brought our stores up from the southwith dog sleds before the snow grew softbut it is necessary for me to push ofurther. My business, you understand, i

he scientific survey; to report upon thnatural resources of the country."

He paused, and his manner changed

ittle when he went on again. "I have," hadded, "to this extent taken you into mconfidence, and I invite an equal candourTwo things are evident. You have made a



ong journey, and your French is not thaone hears in Paris."

"First of all," said Wyllard, "I must asagain are you a Russian?"

Overweg spread his hands out with

ittle whimsical gesture. "My name, whichave told you, is not Sclavonic, and i

may be admitted that I was born iBavaria. In the meanwhile, it is true that

have been sent on a mission by thRussian Government."

"I wonder," said Wyllard reflectively

"how far you consider your duty towardyour employers goes."

Overweg's eyes twinkled. "It covers al



hat can be ascertained about thgeological structure and the fauna of thcountry, especially the fauna that produc

marketable furs. At present I am noconvinced that it goes very much further."

It was clear to Wyllard that he was to

arge extent in this man's hands alreadysince he could not reach the inlet withouprovisions, and Overweg could, if hhought fit, send back a messenger to th

Russian authorities. He was one whcould think quickly and make a momentoudecision, and he realised that if he coulnot win the man's sympathy there must bopen hostility between them. It seemepossible that he might obviate annecessity for the latter.



"In that case I think I may tell you whahas brought me here," he said. "If you havravelled much in Kamchatka you can

perhaps, help me. To begin with, I sailedfrom Vancouver, in Canada, going on for ayear ago."

It took him some time to make his erranclear, and then Overweg looked at him ina rather curious fashion.

"It is," he said, "a tale that in these dayone finds some little difficulty ibelieving. Still, it must be admitted that am acquainted with one fact whic

appears to substantiate it."

Then as he saw the blood rise tWyllard's forehead he broke off with



ittle soft laugh.

"My friend," he added, "is it permitted t

offer you my felicitations? The men whwould attempt a thing of this kind are, hink, singularly rare."

"The fact?" said Wyllard, impatiently.

"There is a Kamtchadale in my bascamp who told me of a place where

white man was buried some distance the west of us. He spoke of a second whit

man, but nobody, I understand, knowwhat became of him."

Wyllard straightened himself suddenly"You will send for that Kamtchadale?"

"Assuredly. The tale you have told m



has stirred my curiosity. As my path liewest up the river valley, we can, if ipleases you, go on for a while together."

Wyllard, who thanked him, turned toCharly with a faint sigh of relief.

"It seems that we shall not bring thosmen back, but I think we may find ouwhere they lie," he said. Charly made ncomment, for this was the most he ha

expected, and a few minutes later therwas silence in the little tent when the meay down to sleep among the skins.

They started at sunrise next morning, anfollowed the river slowly by easy stageuntil the man sent back to Overweg's bascamp overtook them with anothe



Kamtchadale. Then they pushed on stilfurther inland, and it was a week latewhen one evening their guide led them u

o a little pile of stones upon a lonelridge of rock. There were two letters verrudely cut on one of them, and Wyllardwho stooped down beside it, took off hi

cap when he rose.

"There's no doubt that Jake Leslie liehere," he said, and looked at Overweg

"Your man is sure it was only one whiteman who buried him?"

Overweg spoke to the Kamtchadale

who answered him.

"There was only one white man," hsaid. "It seems he went inland afterward



—at least a year ago."

Then Wyllard turned to Charly, and hi

face was very grave. "That makes icertain that two of them have died. Therwas one left, and he may be dead by thiime." He spread his hands out with

forceful gesture. "If one only knew!"

Charly made no answer. He was not man of education or much imagination, bu

ike others of his kind he had alternatelborne many privations in the wildernessogging, prospecting, trail-cutting abouhe remoter mines, and at sea. As on

result of this there crept into his minsome recognition of what the outcast whay at rest beside their feet had had to fac

—the infinite toil of the march, the blac



despair, the blinding snow, and Arcticfrost. He met his leader's gaze with a looof comprehending sympathy.

By what grim efforts and primitivdevices their comrade, had clung to life song as he had done it seemed ver

probable that they would never know, buhey clearly realised that though som

might call it an illegal raid, or evepiracy, it was a work of mercy this outlaw

who had borne so much had undertakewhen he was cast away. In the word toswing the boats over and face the roarinsurf in the darkness of the night he haheard the clear call of duty, and hadfearlessly obeyed. His obedience had coshim much, but as the man who had com

so far to search for him looked down upo



he little pile of stones that had beeraised above his bones in the desolatwilderness, there awoke within him a sur

recognition of the fact that this was not thend. That, at least, was unthinkable. Hicomrade, sloughing off the half-frozensuffering flesh, had gone on to join th

mmortals—with his duty done.

It was with a warmth at his heart and slight haziness in his eyes that Wyllard

urned away at length, but when he put ohis fur cap again he was more determinehan ever to carry out the search. Ther

were many perils and difficulties to bfaced, but he felt that he must not flinch.

"One man went inland," he said tOverweg. "I must go that way, too."



The little spectacled scientist looked ahim curiously.

"Ah," he said, "the road your comradravelled is a hard one. You have seen

what it leads to."

Then Wyllard did what is in the case osuch men as he was a somewhat unusuahing, for he gave another a glimpse of th

feelings he generally kept hidden deep i

him.

"No," he said, quietly, "the hard roadeads further—where we do not know—

but one feels that the full knowledge wilnot bring sorrow when it is some dagiven to those who have the courage tfollow."



Overweg spread his hands out. "It is nohe view of the materialists, but it i

conceivable that the materialists may b

wrong. In this case, however, it is thconcrete and practical we have to grapplwith, my friend. You say you are goingnland to search for that man, and fo

awhile I go that way, but though I have mybase camp there is the question oprovisions if you come with me."

They discussed the matter until Wyllardsuggested that he could replace anprovisions his companion supplied hiwith from the schooner, to whicOverweg agreed, and they afterwarddecided to send the Siwash and one of thKamtchadales on to the inlet with a lette

o Dampier. The two started next da



when they found a place where the rivewas with difficulty fordable, and the respushed on slowly into a broken and risin

country seamed with belts of thin foreshere and there. They held westwards foanother week, and then one evening madheir camp among a few stunted an

straggling firs. The temperature had risen the day-time, but the nights were cold

and when they had eaten their eveninmeal they were glad of the shelter of thent. A small fire of resinous branche

was sinking into a faintly glowing masclose outside of it.

The flap was, however, drawn back, andWyllard, who lay facing the openingcould see a triangular patch of dim blu

sky with a sharp sickle moon hanging low



above a black fir branch. The night waclear and still, but now and then there waa faint elfin sighing among the stunte

rees that died away again. He was thenwhile still determined, moodildiscouraged, for they had seen no sign ohuman life during the journey, and hi

reason told him that he might search foyears before he found the bones of the lassurvivor of the party. Still, he meant tosearch while Overweg was willing tsupply him with provisions.

By and bye he saw Charly sharply raishis head and gaze towards the opening.

"Did you hear anything outside?" hasked.



"It would be the Kamtchadales," saiWyllard.

"They went back a mile or two to lasome traps."

"Then," said Wyllard, decisively, "i

couldn't have been anything."

Charly did not appear satisfied, and iseemed to Wyllard that Overweg was also

istening, but there was deep stillnesoutside now, and he dismissed the mattefrom his mind. A few minutes later ithowever, seemed to him that a shadow

form appeared out of the gloom among thfirs and faded into it again. This struchim as very curious, since if it had beeone of the Kamtchadales he would hav



walked straight into camp, but he sainothing to his companions, and there wasilence for a while until Charly rose softl

o his feet.

"Get out as quietly as you can," he saidas he slipped by Wyllard, who crept afte

him to the entrance.

When he reached it his companion'voice rang out with a startling vehemence

"Stop right now!" he cried, and after pause, "Nobody's going to hurt you. Walkright ahead."

Then Wyllard felt his heart beafuriously, for a dusky, half-seen figurematerialised out of the gloom, and grew



nto sharper form as it drew nearer to thsinking fire. The thing was whollunexpected, almost incredible, but it wa

clear that the man could understanEnglish, and his face was white. Ianother moment Wyllard's last doubvanished, and he sprang forward with

gasp.

"Lewson—Tom Lewson," he said.

Then Charly thrust the man inside thent, and when somebody lighted a lamp

he sat down stupidly and looked at themHis face was gaunt and furrowed, an

almost blackened by exposure to the froshis hair was long, and tattered garments ogreasy skins hung about him. There waalso something that suggested bewildere



ncredulity in his eyes.

"It's real?" he said, slowly and haltingly

"You have come at last?"

They assured him that this was the caseand for a moment or two the man's fac

worked and he made a hoarse sound in hihroat.

"Lord," he said, "if I'm dreaming I don

want to wake."

Charly leaned forward and smote him ohe shoulder.

"Shall I hit you like I did that afternoon the Thompson House on the Vancouve

water front?" he asked.



Then the certainty of the thing seemed tdawn upon the man, for he quivered, anhis eyes half closed. After that h

straightened himself with an effort.

"I should have known, and I think I did,he said. "Something seemed to tell me tha

you would come for us when you could."

Wyllard's face flushed, but he saidnothing, and it was Charly who asked th

next question.

"The others are dead?"

Lewson made a little expressive gesture"Hopkins was drowned in a crevice of thce. I buried Leslie back yonder."

He broke off abruptly, as though speec



cost him an effort, and Wyllard turned toOverweg.

"This is the last of the men I was lookinfor," he said.

Overweg quietly nodded. "Then yo

have my felicitations—but it might badvisable if you did not tell me too much,he said. "Afterwards I may be questioneby those in authority."

CHAPTER XXIX.



CAST AWAY.

Tom Lewson had been an hour in campbefore he commenced the story of hiwanderings, and at first he spoke slowland falteringly, lying propped up on on

elbow, with the lamplight on his worface.

"We broke an oar coming off the beach

hat night, and it kind of crippled us," hsaid. "Twice she nearly went back againn the surf, and I don't quite know how w

pulled her off. Anyway, one of us wa

busy heaving out the water that broke inther. It was Jake, I think, and he seemedkind of silly. Once we saw a boat hove upon a sea, but we lost her in the spray, and

a long while after we saw the schooner



Just then a comber that broke on boarmost hove us over, and when we haddodged the next two there wasn't a sign o

her. After that we knew that we weredone, and we just tried to keep her head-tand ease her to the seas."

He stopped a moment, and looked rounat the others with troubled eyes, as thougrying to marshal uncertain memories, fohis was a simple sailorman, wh

contented himself with the baldesnarrative. Still, two of those who hearhim could fill in the things he had nomentioned—the mad lurching of the halfswamped boat, the tense struggle with thoars each time a big frothing combeforged out of the darkness, and the savag

desperation of the drenched and half



frozen men cast away with the roaring suro lee of them and their enemies watchin

upon the hammered beach.

"It blew hard that night," he added"Somehow she lived through it, but therwasn't a sign of the island when mornin

came. Nothing but the combers and thflying haze. Guess the wind must havshifted a few points and drove us by thend of it. Then we found Jake had his hea

aid open by a sealing club. The sea wagetting longer, and as we were too playedout to hold her to it we got her awabefore it, and somehow she didn't rolover. I think it was next day, though imight have been longer, when we fetchedanother island. She just washed up on it

and one of the others pulled me out. Ther



wasn't a sign of anybody on the beach, buhere were plenty of skinned holluschacki

seals on the slope behind it, and that wa

fortunate for us."

"You struck nobody on the island?enquired Wyllard.

"We didn't," said Lewson simply. "TheRussians must have sent a vessel to takoff the killers after the last drive of th

season a day or two before, for thholluschackie were quite fresh, anperhaps it was blowing hard and the surgetting steep, for they'd left quite a few o

heir things behind them. Anyway, thawas how we figured it. We found theshacks the killers lived in, and we madout that winter in one of them."



It occurred to Wyllard that this was hing very few men except sealers coul

have done had they been cast ashor

without stores or tools to face the awfuwinter of the north.

"How did you get through?" he asked.

"Well," said Lewson, "we had a rifleand the ca'tridges weren't spoilt. Thkillers hadn't taken their cooking outfit

and by and bye we got a walrus in an opeane among the ice. They'd left some gea

behind them, but we were most of twdays cutting and heaving the beast out wit

a parbuckle under him. There was nrouble about things keeping in that fros

Besides, we'd the holluschackie blubbeo burn, and there was a half-empty bag o



wo of stores in one of the shacks. No, whadn't any great trouble in making out."

"You had to stay there until the ice brokeup?" said Charly.

"And after. The boat was gone, and w

couldn't get away. She broke up in thsurf, and we burned what we saved of herAt last a schooner came along, and we hiout across the island until she'd gon

away. It was blowing fresh, and hazy, andshe just shoved a new gang of killerashore. There was an Okotsk Russian withem, but he made no trouble for us. H

was white, anyway, and it kind of seemedo me he didn't like one of the other me

who got hurt that night on the beach."



"Then some of them did get badly hurt?Wyllard broke in.

Lewson laughed, a little, almost silenaugh, which nevertheless sounde

strangely grim.

"Well," he said, "from what that Russianold us—and we got to understand eac

other by and bye—one of the killers hahis ribs broke, and it seems that anothe

would go lame for life. Besides, amonother things, there was a white man got hiface quite smashed. I saw him after withis nose flattened way out to starboard

and one eye canted. He was a boss osome kind. They called him Smirnoff."

Overweg looked up sharply. "Ah," h



said, "Smirnoff. A man with an unsavouryname. I have heard of him."

"Anyway," Lewson went on, "we killedseals all the open season with thaRussian, and I've no fault to find with himn fact, I figure if he could have fixed i

he'd have left us on the island that winterbut when a schooner came to take thkillers off and collect the skins Smirnofwas on board of her. That"—and a

ominous gleam crept into Lewson's eye—"was the real beginning of the trouble."

"He had us hauled up before him—gues

he other man had to tell him who we wer—and when I wouldn't answer he slasheme with a sled-dog-whip across the face.



Lewson clenched a lean brown fist"Yes," he added, hoarsely, "I wawhipped—but they should have tied m

hands first. It was not my fault I didnhave that man's life. It was most a minutbefore three of them pulled me off himand he was considerably worse to look a

hen."

There was silence for a minute or twoand Wyllard, who felt his own face grow

a trifle warm, saw the suggestive hardnesn Charly's eyes. Lewson was gazing ounto the darkness, but the veins wer

swollen on his forehead and his wholbody had stiffened. Then he spread hihands out.

"We'll let that go. I can't think of it. They



put us on board the schooner, and by andbye she ran into a creek on the coast. Wewere to be sent somewhere to be deal

with, and we knew what that meant, witwhat they had against us. Well, they wenashore to collect some skins from thKamtchadales, and at night we cut the boa

adrift. We got off in the darkness, and ihey followed they never trailed us. Gueshey figured we couldn't make out throughe winter that was coming on."

So far the story had been more or lesconnected and comprehensible. It laid ngreat tax on Wyllard's credulity, andndeed, all that Lewson described ha

come about very much as Dampier haonce or twice suggested; but it seemed a

almost impossible thing that the three me



should have survived during the years thafollowed. Lewson, as it happened, nevemade that matter very clear. He sat silen

for almost a minute before he went oagain.

"We hauled the boat out, and hid he

among the rocks, and after that we fell iwith some Kamtchadales going north," hsaid. "They took us along, I don't knowhow far, but they were trapping for furs

and by and bye—I think it was monthafter—we got away from them. Then wfell in with another crowd, and went ofurther north with them. They werKoriaks, and we lived with them a lonwhile—a winter and a summer anyway. Iwas more, perhaps—I can't remember."



He broke off with a vague gesture, ansat looking at the others vacantly with hiean face furrowed.

"We must have been with them twoyears—but I don't quite know. It was alhe same up yonder—ever so far to th

north."

It seemed to Wyllard that he had seldoheard anything more expressive in its wa

han this sailorman's brief and fragmentardescription of his life in the wildernessHe had heard from steam whaler skippera little about the tundra that fringes th

Polar Sea, the vast desolation frozen harn summer a few inches below the surface

on which nothing beyond the mosses evegrew. It was easy to understand the brain



crushing sameness and monotony of aexistence chequered only by times of dirscarcity on those lonely shores.

"How did you live?" he asked.

"There were the birds in summer, and

fish in the rivers. In winter we killehings in the lanes in the ice, though ther

were weeks when we lay about thblubber lamp in the pits. They made pit

and put a roof on them. I don't know whwe stayed there, but Jake had always notion that we might get across to Alask—somehow. We were way out on the ice

one day when Jim fell into a crevice, anwe couldn't get him out."

He broke off, and sat still awhile as on



dreaming. "I can't put things together, buat last we came south, Jake and I, anstruck the Kamtchadales again. We could

alk to them, and one of them told us aboua schooner lying in an inlet by settlement. The Russians had brought hehere from the islands, and she must hav

been a sealer. Jake figured it was juspossible we might run away with her anpush across for the Aleutians or Alaska."

Charly looked up suddenly. "She—wa—a sealer—Hayson's Seminole. I was iVictoria when we heard that the Russianhad seized her."

Wyllard turned to Overweg, whonodded when he asked a question iFrench.



"Yes," he said, "I believe the vessel lien the inlet still. They have used her now

and then. It is understood that they wer

warranted in seizing her, but I think therwas some diplomatic pressure brought tbear on them, for they sent her crewhome."

Then Lewson went on again. "Food wascarce that season, and we got mosnothing in the traps," he said. "Besides

here were Russians out prospecting, anhat headed us off. We figured that some ohe Kamtchadales who traded skins to th

settlements would put them on our traiWhen we went to look for the boat she'gone, but we hadn't much notion of gettinoff in her, though another time—I don

remember when—we gave tw



Kamtchadales messages we'd cut on slipof wood. Sometimes the schooners stoon along the coast."

Wyllard nodded. "Dunton of the Cypres

got your message," he said. "He was idifficulties then, but he afterwards sent i

me."

"Well," said Lewson, "there isn't muchmore to it. We hung about the beach

awhile, and then went north before thwinter. Jake played out on the trail. Band bye he had to let up, and in a day owo I buried him."

He spread his hands out, and his voicgrew hoarse. "After that it didn't seem tmatter what became of me, but I kept th



rail somehow, and found I couldn't staup yonder. That's why I started south withsome of them before the summer came

ow I'm here—talking English—talkinwith white men—but it doesn't seem thsame as it should have been—without thothers."

He broke off, and said no more thanight, but Wyllard translated part of history for the benefit of Overweg. Th

atter made a little expressive gesture.

"The thing, it seems incredible," hcommented. "This man, who has so littl

o tell, knows things which would make rained explorer famous."

"It generally happens that way," said



Wyllard with a dry smile. "The men whoknow can't tell."

Overweg made a sign of assent, and thechanged the subject.

"What will you do now?"

"Start for the inlet where we expect tfind the schooner at sunrise. I want tsay"—and Wyllard hesitated—"that yo

have laid an obligation on me which I canever repay; but I can, at least, replace thprovisions you have supplied me with."

"That goes for nothing," said the othewith a smile. "I have, however, drawupon my base camp rather heavily, andshould be glad of any stores from th



schooner that you could let me have. Thdifficulty is that I do not wish to go too faowards the beach."

They arranged a rendezvous a day owo's march from the inlet, and in anothe

half-hour all of them were fast asleep.

When the first of the daylight camWyllard set off with his two companionsand since it was evident that Dampie

must have now lain in the inlet awaitinhem a considerable time, they marche

fast for several days. Then to theiconsternation they came upon the Siwas

ying beside a river badly lame. Iappeared that in climbing a slippery ridgof rock the knee he had injured had giveway, and he had fallen some distanc



heavily, after which the Kamtchadalfinding him helpless had disappeared witmost of the provisions. None of the part

ever learned what had become of him, buhey realised in the meanwhile that th

situation was now a rather serious oneCharly, who looked at Wyllard when he

had heard the Indian's story, explained iconcisely.

"I'm worrying about the boat we left o

he edge of the ice," he said. "I've had notion all along it was going to makrouble. Dampier would see the wreckag

when he ran in, and I guess it would onlmean one thing to him. He'd make quitcertain he was right when he didn't find uat the inlet." He paused and pointe

owards the distant sea. "You have got to



push right on with Lewson as fast as yocan while I try to bring the Siwash along."

Wyllard started in the next few minutesand afterwards never quite forgot thstrain and stress of that arduous marchThe journey he had made with Overwe

had been difficult enough, but they hahen, at least, traversed rising ground fro

which most of the melting snow hadrained away. Now, however, as they

approached the more level littoral therwere wide tracts of mire and swamp to bpainfully floundered through, while everravine and hollow was swept by frothing torrent, and they had often tsearch for hours for a place where it wapossible to cross. To make things worse

hey were drenched with bitter rain hal



he time, and trails of dingy mist obscureheir path, but they toiled on stubbornlhrough every obstacle, though it was onl

by the tensest effort that Wyllard kept pacwith his companion. The gaunt, longhaired Lewson seemed proof againsphysical weariness, and there was seldo

any change in the expression of his grimined face. Now and then Wyllard felt

curious shrinking as he glanced at it, fots fixed look suggested what this man ha

borne in the awful solitudes of the frozenorth.

Slowly, with infinite toil, they crossedhe weary leagues, lying at night with

single skin between them and the soil, fohey travelled light; and Wyllard wa

imping painfully with his boots worn of



his feet, when at length one morning thecame into sight of a low promontorwhich rose against a stretch of grey

ifeless sea. His heart throbbed fast as hrealised that behind it lay the inlet intwhich Dampier had arranged to bring thSelache. He glanced at Lewson, who sai

nothing, and they plodded forward fastehan before.

The misty sun was high in the heaven

when at length they reached the foot of thsteep rise, and Wyllard gasped heavily ahey crept up the ascent. He was making

severe muscular effort; but it was thnervous tension that troubled him most, fohe knew that he would look down upon thnlet from the summit. He blamed himsel

bitterly for not sending on a messenger t



Dampier when he fell in with Overwegwhich, in his eagerness to follow up thclue the latter had given him, he had a

first omitted to do. There had certainlbeen difficulties in the way, for thncrease in the scientist's party had mad

additional packers necessary, and Wyllar

felt that he could not reasonably compehim to leave the camp comforts he haevidently been accustomed to behind. Ispite of that, he had been at fault in nodisregarding every objection, and hrealised it now.

Somehow he kept pace with Lewson, buhe closed one hand tight as he neared thop. When he reached it he stoppe

suddenly, and his face set hard as h

ooked down, standing very still. Beneat



him lay a strip of dim, green water, with fringe of soft, white surf at the foot of thpromontory, while beyond the latter ther

stretched away an empty expanse oslowly heaving sea. There was nothinelse, however; no schooner in the inlet, nboat upon the beach.

In another moment or two they wendown the slope savagely at a stumblinrun, and then stopped, gasping by th

water's edge, and looked at one anotherThere were marks in the sand whicshowed them where a boat had beedrawn up not very long ago. The Selach

had evidently been there, and had saileaway again.

Then Wyllard sat down limply upon th



shingle, for all the strength seemed tsuddenly melt out of him, and it waseveral minutes before he looked up

Lewson was still standing, a shapelessbarbaric figure in his garments of skinswith a dark lined face that had scarcelchanged, gazing out to sea. The hid

moccasins he wore had chafed throughand Wyllard noticed that the blood warickling from one of his feet.

"Well?" he said, harshly.

Wyllard laid a stern restraint upohimself. Their case looked desperate, bu

t must, at least, be grappled with.

"We must go back and meet the rest," hesaid. "That first—what is to com



afterwards I don't quite know." Then faint gleam of resolution crept into hieyes. "The schooner the Russians seize

ies in an inlet down the coast."

Lewson made a sign of comprehension"There are four of us. There will be bird

by and bye. I can trap things."

Then he flung himself down near hicomrade, and for an hour neither of the

said anything. Wyllard, at least, waworn-out physically, and limp from thast few hours' mental strain, whil

Lewson very seldom said more than wa

absolutely necessary. Then they made very frugal meal, and long afterwardWyllard was haunted by the memory ohat dreary afternoon during which he la



upon the shingle watching the slowpulsations of the dim, lifeless sea.

They set out again early next morningand, as it happened, found a little depôt oprovisions that Dampier had made, but iwas several days before they met Charl

and the Indian, and another week hapassed before Overweg reached the placappointed. He listened to Wyllard's storgravely, and then appeared to consider.

"You have some plans?" he asked.

Wyllard admitted that this was the case

and Overweg smiled behind hispectacles.

"It is, perhaps, better that you do not tel



me what they are," he said. "There ishowever, one thing I can do. You say youeft some stores you could not carry at th

depôt, which I will take, for provisionare now not plentiful with me, but therare still a few things you have not whicare almost necessary at my base camp

and"—he spread his hands out—"after alf I have to go south a little earlier than ntended it is not a great matter."

He wrote on a strip of paper which hhanded to Wyllard. "You will take theseand nothing else. I may add that Smirnofs stationed at the inlet where the schooneies."

Wyllard thanked him, and then lookedhim in the eyes. "There is a long journe



before us, and you have only my word thawill take nothing but these things."

Overweg nodded quietly. "Yes," he said"it is, however, perhaps permissible toassure you that it is sufficient for me."

Very little more was said, and in anothehalf-hour Wyllard and his companionwere ready to set out. He and the littlspectacled scientist grasped each other'

hands, and then Wyllard abruptly turnedaway. A few minutes later he turned againand looking back saw Overweg standinupon the ridge where he had left hi

silhouetted against a low, grey sky. Heraised his cap once, and Wyllard, whoanswered him, swung round once moreand strode on faster towards the south. H



knew that his regard for this stranger whhad fallen across his path would remaiunchanged while his life should last.



CHAPTER XXX.

THE LAST EFFORT.It was after a long and arduous journe

which had left its mark on all of them tha

Wyllard and his companions lay amonhe boulders beside a sheltered inle

waiting for the dusk to fall one lowerinevening. They were cramped and aching

for they had scarcely moved during thast hour; their garments were badlattered, and their half-covered feet wer

bleeding. They were, as they recognised, pitiful company to seize a vessel, withree knives and one rifle between them

but there was resolution in their haggar

faces.



Close in front of them the green wateapped softly among the stones. Th

breeze was light off shore, and the tide

which was just running ebb, rippleagainst the bows of a little schooner lyinsome thirty yards from the bank. She habeen seized for illegal sealing some year

earlier, and it was evident that she hadbeen very little used since then. The painwas peeling from her cracked anweathered side, her gear was frayed anbleached with frost and rain, and onlvery hard-pressed men would have facehe thought of going to sea in her. Wyllard

and his companions were, however, verhard-pressed indeed, and they preferrehe hazards of a voyage in the crazy vesseo falling into the Russians' hands. It wa

also clear that they had no choice. It mus



be either one thing or the other.

Some little distance up-stream a low

rise cut against the dingy sky. It shut off alview of the upper part of the inlet, whicwound in behind it, but Wyllard and hicompanions had cautiously climbed th

slope earlier in the afternoon, and lyinflat upon the summit had looked dowupon the little wooden houses thaclustered above the beach. He had the

decided that this part of the inlet wouldry out at about half-ebb, and as thschooner's boat, which he meant to seizeay upon the shingle it was evident that h

must carry out his plans within the nexhree hours.

These were very simple. There wa



nobody on board the schooner, which lan deeper water, and he fancied that i

would be possible to swim off to her an

slip the cable; but they must havprovisions, and there was, so far as hcould see, only one way of obtaining themA building which stood by itself clos

beside the beach was evidently a storefor he had seen two men carrying bags ancases out of it under the superintendencof a third in some kind of uniform, and iappeared to be unguarded. Wyllard, whohad reasons for surmising that the fewsettlements on the coast were under stric

official control, fancied that the storcontained Government supplies, and haarranged that Charly and Lewson shoulbreak into it as soon as darkness fell, an

pull off to the schooner with anything the



could find inside. Whether they woulsucceed in doing this he did not know, andhe admitted to himself that it scarcel

seemed probable, but he could think of nother plan, and the attempt must be made.

In the meanwhile a thin haze drov

across the crest of the rise, the breezfreshened slightly, and the little rippleapped more noisily along the shingle

There was evidently a good deal of fres

water coming down the inlet, and it was ia fever of impatience he watched thschooner strain at her cable. That eveninhad already seemed the longest he haever spent in his life. By and bye icommenced to rain, and little streams ochilly water trickled about the weary men

but they lay still, with lips tight set, i



ense suspense. What Lewson had had tface in the awful icy wastes to the north ohem Wyllard could scarcely imagine, and

Lewson could not tell, but he and his twother comrades had borne things almosbeyond endurance since he commencehis search, and now there was far to

much at stake for him to increase the oddagainst them by any undue precipitancyHe was then in a dangerous mood, but hhad laid his plans with grim, coldblooded caution, and he meant to adhero them.

At length, and very slowly, the lighfaded, until the beach grew shadowy, andhe schooner's spars and rigging showe

dim and blurred against a dusk

background. The rise that shut off th



settlement was lost in drifting haze, anhe dull rumble of the surf on the oute

beach came up more sharply through th

gathering darkness. The measured beat ots deep pulsations almost maddene

Wyllard as he lay and listened, for if alwent right he would be sliding out ove

he long heave with every sail piled on the crazy schooner in another hour or two

At length, when there was only a fain

gleam of water sliding by below, he rosstiffly to his feet, and Lewson stretcheout a hand for the rifle that lay among thstones. There was a sharp click as herked the lever, and then he laughed, ittle jarring laugh, as the magazin

snapped back.



"They'll treat us as pirates if they gehands on us—and I've been lashed in thface—with a sled-dog-whip," he said.

Charly said nothing as he loosened thong seaman's knife in his belt, an

Wyllard made no remonstrance, for ther

s, as he recognised, a point beyond whicprudence does not count. After whaOverweg had once or twice told him, iwas unthinkable that they should fall int

Smirnoff's hands.

Then Lewson and Charly melted awanto the darkness, and Wyllard and th

Siwash walked quietly down to thwater's edge, a little up-stream of thschooner, as the stream was runninstrong. They, however, stripped of



nothing, for it was evident that none of thrags they left behind could be replacedand they knew from experience that whe

he first shock is over a man swimming icy water is kept a little warmer by hi

clothing. For all that, the cold struchrough Wyllard like a knife when he flun

himself forward and swung his left hanout, and it was perhaps a minute before hwas clearly conscious of anything beyonhe physical agony and the mental effort t

retain control of his faculties. Then hmade out the schooner, a vague, blurredshape a little down-stream of him, and h

swam furiously, his face dipping undeeach time his left hand came out.

He drew level with her, clutched at he

cable, a foot short, and was driven agains



her bows. Then the stream swept hionward, gasping, and clawing savagely aher slippery side, until his fingers found

hold. It was merely the rounded top of bolt, but with a desperate effort hclutched the bent iron that led up from it tone of the dead-eyes of the mainmast

shrouds. He could not, however, drawhimself up any further, and he hung onwondering when his strength would faihim, until the Siwash, who had alreadcrawled up the cable, leaned down froabove and seized his shoulder. In anothemoment or two he reached the rail, an

went staggering across the deck, drippingand half dazed.

Action was, however, imperativel

necessary, and he braced himself for th



effort. The schooner was lying with heanchor up-stream, but he did not think iwould be possible to heave her over i

and break it out unless he waited until thothers arrived, and it would then be engthy and, what was more to th

purpose, a noisy operation. The ancho

must be sacrificed, but there was thdifficulty that he could hardly expect tfind a shackle on the cable in the darkRunning forward with the Siwash, hpulled a chain stopper out, and theshipping the windlass levers found witvast relief that it would work. It woul

make a horribly distinct clanking, hknew, but that could not be helped, and thnext thing was to discover if the end of thchain was made fast below, for it is very

seldom that a skipper finds it necessary t



pay all his cable out.

Dropping into the darkness of the locke

beneath the forecastle, he was morfortunate than he could reasonably havexpected to be, for as he crawled over thrusty links he felt a shackle. It appeared t

be of the usual harp-pattern with cottered pin, and he called out sharply the Siwash, who presently flung him aron bar and a big spike. Then he struc

one of the two or three sulphur matches hhad carefully treasured, and when thsputtering blue flame went out set to woro back the pin out in the dark. H

smashed his knuckles and badly bruisehis hands, but he succeeded, and knew thahe had shortened the chain by two-third

now.



Then he scrambled up on deck again anhurried aft, for the vessel's kedge had beeaid out astern to prevent her swinging

There was a heavy hemp warp attached tt, and it cost them some time to heav

most of it over, after which theproceeded to get the mainsail on to her. I

was covered with a coat, and Wyllard cuhimself as he slashed through the tiers isavage impatience. Then he and thSiwash toiled at the halliards desperatelyfor the task of raising the heavy gaff waalmost beyond their powers.

There was no grease on the mast-hoopshe blocks had evidently not been used fo

months, and several times they desisted moment or two, gasping, breathless, an

utterly exhausted. Still, foot by foot the



got the black canvas up, and then, leavinhe peak hanging, ran forward to th

boom-foresail, which was smaller an

ighter. They set that, cast two jibs and thstaysail loose, and let them lie, anWyllard sat down feeling that the thinhey had done would, if attempted in col

blood, have appeared almost impossible.

It was done, however, and now he muswait until the boat appeared. There wa

no sign of her, and as he gazed up thnlet, seeing only the dim glimmer of th

water and the sliding mist, the suspensbecame almost intolerable. Minutslipped by after minute, and still nothinoomed out of the haze. The canvas rustle

and banged above him, there was

growing splashing beneath the bows, an



he schooner strained more heavily at hecable. Everything was ready, only hicomrades did not appear. He clenched hi

hands and set his lips as he waited, anwondered at the Siwash who sat upon thrail, a dim, shapeless figure, impassivelstill.

At length his heart throbbed furiouslyfor a faint splash of oars came out of thdarkness, and they both ran forward to th

windlass. The sharp clanking it maddrowned the splash of oars, but in anotheminute or two there was a crash as thboat drove alongside, and Charlscrambled up with a rope while Lewsohurled sundry bags and cases after himThen he climbed on deck in turn, an

Charly commenced a breathles



explanation.

"It's all we could get. There's nobody o

our trail," he said.

The last fact was most important, anWyllard cut him short. "Get the jibs and

staysail on to her."

The new arrivals did it while the cablclanked and rattled as the schooner drov

astern, but at the first heave the rottestaysail tore off the hanks, and one jibburst as they ran it up its stay. Then for aanxious moment or two the cable jammed

and the anchor brought the schooner upAll four flung themselves upon thwindlass levers, and after a furious efforhe chain came up again and ran out faster



fathom by fathom, rattling horribly, untihe end of it shot suddenly over th

windlass. Then there was another check a

he schooner brought up by the kedgswung suddenly across the stream.

Her banging canvas filled, she liste

over, and it was evident to all of them thaf the kedge started she would forthwit

drive ashore. Its warp ripped out of thwater tense with strain, and she wa

swinging on it heading for the beach whenWyllard flung himself upon the wheel.

"Hang on to every inch or break it!" h

roared. "Out main-boom; box your jib anstaysail up to weather!"

They did it, amidst a great clatter o



blocks and thrashing of canvas, idesperate haste, while Wyllard wrenchedup his helm, and the schooner, straining o

he warp, fell away with her bows downstream. He was quivering all through, anhe sweat of effort dripped from him whe

he swung up an arm to Lewson, who wa

standing at the bollard the warp was madfast to.

"Now," he cried hoarsely, "let her go!"

The rope fell with a splash, the schooneurched forward and drove away down thnlet with the stream running seawar

under her, while Wyllard felt a trifledazed from sheer revulsion of feeling. Thrumble of the surf was growing louder, thdeck slanted slightly beneath him, and i



hey could keep her off the beach for thnext few minutes there was freedobefore them. He hazarded a glance astern

but could see no sign of a boat up the inleThey had done a thing which even theappeared almost incredible.

The breeze came down fresher, thgurgle at the bows grew louder, and thdeck commenced to heave with a slowand regular rise and fall. Then a long

shadowy point girt about with spectrasurf slipped by, and they were out in opewater. They ran her out for an hour or twoand then, though the peak of the mainsaiburst to tatters as they hauled her on wind, let her stretch away northwardfollowing the trend of coast.



"We'll stand on as she's lying until wefind a creek or river mouth. We must havewater," Wyllard said.

An hour later he called Charly to thwheel, and sitting down in the shelter ohe rail soon afterwards went to sleep

hough this was about the last thing he hacontemplated doing. It was grey dawwhen he opened his eyes again, and stooup, aching all over and very cold, to se

hat the schooner was tumbling over ittle spiteful sea with the hazy loom oand not far away from her. Then h

glanced at the gear and canvas, and waalmost appalled, while Charly, who wabusy close by, saw his face and grinned.

"You don't want to look at her too



much," he said. "We took a swig on thepeak-halliards a little while ago, and hao let up before we pulled the gaff off her

Boom-foresail's worse, and the jibs ardropping off her, while the water juspours in through her topsides when shputs another lee plank down."

Wyllard made a little expressivgesture, and leaned upon the rail. Hrealised then something of the nature of th

ask he had undertaken. They had nanchor, no fresh water, no fuel focooking, and, so far as he was aware, verfew provisions, while it seemed to hihat the weathered, worn-out gear woul

not hold the masts in the vessel in anweight of breeze. Still, the thing must b

attempted, and there was one want, a



east, that could be supplied.

"Anyway," he said, "we'll beat her in

When we come abreast of the first creeyou and Tom and the Siwash will goashore."

It was afternoon when they sighted oneand they took most of the canvas off thvessel before three of them pulled away ihe boat, leaving Wyllard at the helm. I

was blowing moderately fresh off shoreand it was with feverish impatience hwatched them toiling at the oars, two ohem pulling while the third man sculled

Then they disappeared behind a point, anan anxious hour went by before the boatwhich now showed a very scanty strip oside above the tumbling foam, crept ou



from the beach again. Having no breakershey had brought the water off in bulk

sitting in it as they pulled, and it wa

fortunate that the boat lurched off shoreasily before the little splashing seasThey lost some of the water before thehove it into the big and very rusty tank

and then they held a consultation whehey had swung the boat in and th

schooner was running off to the east again

"We've about stores enough to last twoweeks—that is, if you don't expect tomuch," Lewson pointed out. "There's aAmerican stove in the deck-house, anwhile we can't find anything meant to burn it there's an axe down forward, and w

could cut out cabin floorings, or a beam o

wo, without taking too much stiffening ou



of her."

Wyllard, who had inspected the stores

fancied that a fortnight was the verongest that could be counted on, thoughey ate no more than would keep

modicum of strength in them. From thei

kind and quality he surmised that they habeen intended for the officials in charge ohe settlement.

"How did you get them, Tom?" he asked

"The thing," said Lewson quietly, "wasimple. It was dark and hazy, and rainin

quite hard, and the first thing we did wao run the boat down and leave her nearl

afloat. Then we crawled back, and lay bistening outside that store. We were



figuring how we were to break it in whewo men came along. They went in an

came out with a bag or two, and as the

eft the door open we figured they wercoming back for more. We humped out amoderate load, and had just got it down the boat when we saw those men, or tw

others, in the haze. I was for lying by, buCharly would get out then."

Charly laughed drily. "He wanted to tak

he rifle and go back to look for Smirnoff'd no use for any trouble of that kind, anshoved the boat off while he was seein

how many ca'tridges there were in thmagazine. He waded in and grabbed thboat when he saw I was sure going, but shoved her away from him. Then it kind o

struck him he had to get in or swim."



Lewson's expression grew very grim"That's the thing that hurts the most—to gaway before I got even with that man," h

said. "Still, I may get over it if I try think of him with his nose smashed hard t

starboard."

Wyllard made a sign of impatience. Hfelt that, after all, there was perhapsomething to be said for Smirnoff's poinof view.

"There is just one plan open to us, anhat's to drive her across to the eastwar

as fast as we can," he said. "We might

perhaps, pick up an Alaska C.C. factorbefore the provisions quite run out if thibreeze and the gear hold up. Failing thawe must try for one of the Western



Aleutians."

The others concurred in this, and ver

fortunately the breeze kept to the west ansouth, for Wyllard had very grave doubtas to whether he could have thrashed thschooner to windward through a steep

head sea. Indeed, on looking back on thavoyage and remembering the state of thvessel, it seemed to him that he and hicompanions had only escaped as by

miracle. In any case, they hove her to onmisty evening in a deep inlet behind promontory, and Wyllard, who sculled upt alone in the growing darkness, badl

startled the agent of an A.C.C. factorwhen he appeared, ragged, haggard, anwet with rain, in the doorway of a big

stove-warmed room.



The agent, however, was, as hadmitted, out for business, and wheWyllard produced a wad of paper mone

stained by wet and perspiration happeared quite willing to part with certaiprovisions. He was also told that nquestions would be answered, and whe

he had given Wyllard supper the lattesculled away in the darkness leaving hinone the wiser. Half an hour later thschooner slipped out to sea again.

The rest was by comparison easy. Theyhad the coast of Alaska and BritisColumbia close aboard, and they crepsouthwards in fine weather, once runninoff their course when the smoke of steamer crept up above the horizon. The

hey ran for the northern tongue o



Vancouver Island in a strong breeze owind, and Wyllard, who had alreaddecided that the vessel would scarcel

fetch five hundred dollars and that iwould be better if all trace of hedisappeared, pulled his wheel ovesuddenly as she was scraping by a surf

swept reef.

In another minute she was on hard anfast, and they had scarcely got the boa

over when the masts went with a crash. Aquarter of an hour later they were throwup on the beach, and before they set out oa long march through the bush there wavery little to be seen of the vessel.

Three or four days afterwards thereached a little wooden town, an



Wyllard, who slipped into it alone in thdusk, bought clothing for himself and hicompanions, who put it on in the bush

Then they went into the town together, andslept that night in a wooden hotel.

Their troubles were over, and, what wa

more, Wyllard, who pledged the rest tosecrecy, fancied that what had become ohe schooner would remain a mystery.

CHAPTER XXXI.

WYLLARD COMES HOME



Harvest had commenced at the Rangeand the clashing binders were movinhrough the grain when Hawtrey sat on

afternoon in Wyllard's room at the Ranget was then about five o'clock, and ever

man belonging to the homestead waoiling bare-armed and grimed with dus

among the yellow oats, but Hawtrey sat aa table gazing at the litter of papers ifront of him with a troubled face. He wora white shirt and store clothes, which wadistinctly unusual in case of a Westernfarmer at harvest time, and Edmonds, thmortgage jobber, leaned back in a bi

chair quietly watching him.

The latter had, as it happened, called aa singularly inconvenient time, an

Hawtrey was anxious to get rid of hi



before the guests he expected arrived. Iwas Sally's birthday, and since she toopleasure in simple festivities of any kin

he had arranged to celebrate it at thRange. He was, however, sufficientlacquainted with his companion's characteo realise that it was most unlikely that h

would take his departure before he haaccomplished the purpose which habrought him there. This was to collecseveral thousand dollars.

It was quite clear to Hawtrey that he wan an unpleasantly tight place. Edmond

held a bond upon his homestead, teamsand implements as security for a short datoan, repayment of which was due, and h

was to be married to Sally in a month o

so.



"Can't you wait a little?" he asked aength.

"I'm afraid not," was thuncompromising reply. "Money's tight thifall, and things have gone against meBesides, you could pay me off if yo

wanted to."

Edmonds turned towards an opewindow, and glanced at the great stretc

of yellow grain that ran back across thprairie. Dusty teams and binders witflashing wooden arms moved half-hiddealong the edge of it, and the still, clear ai

was filled with a clash and clatter and thrustle of flung-out sheaves.

There was no doubt that money could b



raised upon that harvest field. IndeedHawtrey fancied that his companiowould be quite content to take a bond fo

he delivery of so many thousand busheln repayment of the loan, but while he ha

already gone further than he had at onime contemplated doing, this was

course he shrank from suggesting. Afteall, the grain was Wyllard's, and therwas the difficulty that Wyllard might stilcome back, while if he failed to do this aabsence of another few months woulentitle his executors to presume him deadn either case, Hawtrey would be require

o account for his property.

"No," he said, "I can't take—that way."

There was a trace of contempt in th



mortgage jobber's smile. "You of courseunderstand just how you're fixed, but iseemed to me from that draft of th

arrangement with Wyllard that you havhe power to do pretty much what you like

Anyway, if you gave me a bond on amuch of that grain as would wipe out th

oan at present figure, it would only meahat you would have Wyllard's trustees fo

creditors instead of me, and it's probablhat they wouldn't be as hard upon you a'm compelled to be. As things stand, you

have got to square up or I throw youplace on the market."

Hawtrey's face betrayed his dismay, andhis companion fancied that he would yielo a little further pressure. He had not sai

anything about the mortgage to Sally, and



t would be singularly unpleasant to burned out upon the prairie within a mont

or two of his marriage, for he could no

count upon being left in possession of thRange much longer.

"I'm only entitled to handle Wyllard'

money on—his—account," he objected.

Edmonds appeared to reflect. "So far acan remember there was nothing of tha

kind stated in the draft of the arrangement empowered you to do anything yohought fit with the money, but it'

altogether your own affair. I can, o

course, get my dollars back by sellinyour homestead up, and I have to decide ihat must be done or not before I leave."



He had very little doubt as to what thdecision would be. Hawtrey would yieldand afterwards it would not be difficult t

draw him into some unwise speculatiowith the object of getting the money backwhich he imagined that Hawtrey would bdesperately anxious to do. As the result o

his, he expected to get such a hold upohe Range that he would be master of th

situation when the property fell into thhands of Wyllard's trustees. That Hawtrewould be disgraced as well as ruinenaturally did not count with him.

The latter took up one of the papers, anread it through with vacillation in hieyes. Then he rose, and stood leaning ohe table while he gazed at the team

oiling amidst the grain. There was wealt



enough yonder to release him from hiorturing anxieties, and after all, he fel

something must turn up before th

reckoning was due. It was not in his naturo face a crisis, and with him a troubl

seemed less formidable if it could only bput off a little. Edmonds, who knew wit

what kind of man he had to deal, sainothing further, and quietly reached out foanother cigar.

In the meanwhile, though neither of thmen were aware of this, Sally had just godown from her waggon on the other sidof the house, and another couple of teamwere already growing larger upon thsweep of whitened prairie. As she enteredhe homestead she met Mrs. Nansen, an

he latter informed her that Hawtrey wa



busy with Edmonds in Wyllard's roomSally's eyes sparkled when she heard itand her face grew hard.

"That man!" she said. "Well, I guess I'lgo right in to them."

In another minute she opened the doorand answered the mortgage jobber'somewhat embarrassed greeting with frigid stare. Having some experience o

Sally's uncompromising directness, hwas inclined to fancy that the game waup, but he said nothing further, and shfixed her eyes on Hawtrey.

"What's this man doing here again?" shasked. "You promised me you wouldnever make another deal with him."



Hawtrey flushed. Had he fancied iwould have been the least use he woulhave made some attempt to get Sally out o

he room, but he was unpleasantly surhat unless she was fully satisfied first i

would only result in failure. Besidesdriven to desperation, as he was, he had

half-conscious feeling that she mighprovide him with some means of escapeSally had certainly saved him oncalready, and, humiliating as it was, hfancied that she did not expect too mucfrom him. She might be very angry, buSally's anger was, after all, less difficul

o face than Agatha's quiet scorn.

"I haven't made another deal. It's—previous one," he said lamely.



Sally swung round on Edmonds. "Youhave come here for money? You may awell tell me. I won't leave you wit

Gregory until you do."

It was quite evident that she would makher promise good, and Edmonds nodded.

"Yes," he said; "about 3,000 dollars."

"And Gregory can't pay you?"

Edmonds reflected rapidly, and decidedo take a bold course. He was acquainte

with Hawtrey's habit of putting things off

and fancied that the latter would seizupon the first loophole of escape from aembarrassing situation. That was why hgave him a lead.



"Well," he said, "there is a way in whichhe could do it if he wished. He has only tfill in a paper and hand it me."

He had, however, not sufficientlcounted on Sally's knowledge of hivictim's affairs, or her quickness of wit

for she turned to Hawtrey with commanding gesture.

"Where are you going to get 3,00

dollars from?" she asked.

The blood crept into Hawtrey's face, fohis was a thing he could not tell her; but

swift suspicion flashed into her mind ashe looked at him.

"Perhaps it could be—raised," he said.



"To pay his mortgage off?" and Sallyswung round on Edmonds now.

"Yes," the latter admitted; "he can easilydo it."

Then the girl turned to Hawtrey

"Gregory," she said with harsncisiveness, "there's only one way yo

could get that money—and it isn't yours."

Hawtrey said nothing, but he could nomeet her gaze, and when he turned froher she looked back at the mortgagobber.

"If you're gone before I come bachere'll sure be trouble," she informe

him, and sped swiftly out of the room.



Then Hawtrey sat down limply in hichair, and Edmonds laughed in a jarrinmanner. The game was up, but, after all, i

he got his 3,000 dollars he could bsatisfied, for he had already extracted good many from Hawtrey one way oanother.

"If I were you I'd marry that girl righaway," he said. "You'd be safer if you hadher to look after you."

Hawtrey let the jibe pass. For one thinghe felt that it was warranted, and just thehis anxiety was too strong for anger.

In the meanwhile, Sally ran out of thhouse to meet Hastings, who had jushanded his wife down from their waggon



and drew him a pace or two aside.

"I'm worried about Gregory," she said

"he's in trouble—big trouble. Somehowwe have got to raise 3,000 dollarsEdmonds is inside with him."

Hastings did not seem greatlastonished. "Ah!" he said, "I guess it'over that mortgage of his. It would bawkward for you and Gregory if Edmond

ook the homestead and turned him out."

Sally's face grew rather white, but shmet his gaze steadily.

"Oh," she said, "that's not what I woulmind the most."

Hastings reflected a moment or two. H



fancied that this was a very difficuladmission for the girl to make, and thashe had made it suggested that Hawtre

might become involved in more serioudifficulties. He had also a stronsuspicion of what they were likely to be.

"Sally," he said quietly, "you are afraidof Edmonds making him do something yowould not like?"

Though she did not answer directly hsaw the shame in the girl's face, anremembered that he was one of Wyllard'rustees.

"I must raise those dollars—now—and don't know where to get more than fivhundred from. I might manage that," sh



said.

"Well," said Hastings, "you want me to

end you them, and I'm not sure that I canStill, if you'll wait a few minutes I'll sewhat I can do."

Sally left him, and he turned to his wifewhose expression suggested that she haoverheard part of what was said and haguessed the rest.

"You mean to raise that money? Afteall, we are friends of his, and it may savhim from letting Edmonds get his gri

upon the Range," she said.

Hastings made a sign of reluctant assent"I don't quite know how I can do i



personally, in view of the figure wheat istanding at, and I don't think much of ansecurity that Gregory could offer me. Stil

here is, perhaps, a way in which it coulbe arranged, and it's one that, considerineverything, is more or less admissible. hink I'll wait here for Agatha."

Agatha was in the waggon driven bSproatly close behind them, and when hhad handed her and Winifred dow

Hastings, who walked to the house withem, drew her into an unoccupied room

while Mrs. Nansen took the rest into thbig general one.

"I'm afraid that Gregory's in ratheserious trouble. Sally seems very anxiouabout him," he said. "It's rather a delicat



subject, but I understand that in a generaway you are on good terms with both ohem?"

Agatha met his somewhat embarrassegaze with a smile. She fancied that whahe really wished to discover was whethe

she still felt any bitterness against Gregorand blamed him for pledging himself tSally.

"Yes," she said, "Sally and I are goodfriends, and I am very sorry to hear thaGregory is in any difficulty."

Hastings still seemed embarrassed, anshe was becoming puzzled by his manner.

"Once upon a time you would have don



anything possible to make things easier fohim," he said. "I wonder if I might ask if tsome extent you have that feeling still?"

"Of course. If he is in serious trouble should be glad to do anything within mpower to help him."

"Even if it cost, we will say, about sihundred English pounds?"

Agatha gazed at him in bewildereastonishment. "There are some twentdollars in my possession which your wifhanded me not long ago."

"Still, if you had the money, you wouldbe glad to help him—and would not regret afterwards?"



"No," said Agatha decisively; "if I hadhe means, and the need was urgent,

should be glad to do what I could." The

she laughed. "I can't understand in theast how this is to the purpose."

"If you will wait for the next two o

hree months I may be able to explain it tyou," said Hastings. "In the meanwhilehere are one or two things I have to do."

Agatha sat still when he left herwondering what he could have meant, bufeeling that she would be willing to dwhat she had assured him. His suggestio

hat it was possible that she still cherisheany sense of grievance against Gregorbecause he was going to marry Sallyhowever, brought a little scornful smil



nto her eyes. It was singularly easy tforgive Gregory that, for she now saw hias he was—shallow, careless, shiftless,

man without depth of character. He had few surface graces, and on occasion certain half-insolent forcefulness omanner which in a curious fashion wa

almost becoming. There was, howevernothing beneath the surface. When he hao face a crisis he collapsed like a pricke

bladder, which was the first simile shcould think of, though she admitted that iwas not a particularly elegant one. Hwas, it seemed, quite willing that

woman should help him out of the troublhe had involved himself in, for she had ndoubt that Sally had sent Hastings on hisomewhat incomprehensible errand.



Then a clear voice came in through thwindow, and turning towards it she sawhat a young lad clad in blue duck wa

singing as he drove his binder through thgrain. The song was a very simple onwhich had some vogue just then upon thprairie, but her eyes grew suddenly haz

as odd snatches of it reached her throughe beat of hoofs, the clash of the binder'

arms, and the rustle of the flung-ousheaves.

"My Bonny lies over the ocean,

My Bonny lies far over the sea."

Then he called to his horses, and it waa few moments before she heard again—

"Bring back my Bonny to me."



A quiver ran through her as she leanedupon the window frame. There was certain pathos in the simple strain, and sh

could fancy that the lad, who was clearlEnglish, as an exile felt it, too. Once moras the jaded horses and clashing machingrew smaller down the edge of the grea

sweep of yellow grain, his voice camfaintly up to her with its haunting thrill oonging and regret—

"Bring back my Bonny to me."

This in her case was more than anyoncould do, and as she stood listening a tea

splashed upon her closed hands. The manby comparison with whom Gregorappeared a mere lay figure, was in alprobability lying still far up in th



solitudes of the frozen North, with his lasgrim journey done. This time, however, hhad not carried her picture with him

Gregory was to blame for that, and it wahe one thing she could not forgive him.

She leaned against the window fo

another minute, struggling with an almosuncontrollable longing, and looking ouupon the sweep of golden wheat anwhitened grass with brimming eyes, unti

here was a rattle of wheels, and she sawEdmonds drive away. In another minutshe heard voices in the corridor, and ibecame evident that Hastings waspeaking to his wife.

"I've got rid of the man, and it'reasonable to expect that Gregory wil



keep clear of him after this," he said.

"Don't you mean that Agatha did it?"

It was Mrs. Hastings who asked thquestion, and Agatha became intent as shheard her name. She did not, however

hear the answer, and Mrs. Hastings spokagain.

"Allen," she said, "you don't keep

secret badly, though Harry pledged yonot to tell. Still, all that caution was ittle unnecessary. It was, of course, jushe kind of thing he would do."

"What did he do?" Hastings asked, anAgatha heard his wife's soft laugh, for thewere just outside the door now.



"Left the Range, or most of it, to Agathn case he didn't come back again."

They went on, and Agatha, turning frohe window, sat down limply with th

blood in her face and her heart beatinhorribly fast. Wyllard's last care, i

seemed, had been to provide for her, andhat fact brought her a curious sense o

solace. In an unexplainable fashion it toohe bitterest sting out of her grief, thoug

how far he had succeeded in his intentiondid not seem to matter in the least. It wasufficient to know that amidst all the hastof his preparation he had not forgotten her

Then, becoming a little calmer, shunderstood what had been in Hastings'mind during the interview that had puzzle



her, and was glad that she assured him oher willingness to sacrifice anything thamight be hers if it was needed to se

Gregory free. It was, she felt, whaWyllard would have done with the moneyHe had said that Gregory was a friend ohis, and that, she knew, meant a good dea

o him.

It was, however, evident that she musoin the others if she did not wish he

absence to excite undesirable commentand going out she came face to face witSally in the corridor. The girl stoppedand saw the sympathy in her eyes.

"Yes," she said impulsively, "I've savedhim. Edmonds has gone. Hastings boughhim off, and, though I don't quite know



how, you helped him. He stayed behind towait for you."

Agatha smiled. The vibrant relief in hecompanion's voice stirred her, and shrealised once more that in choosing thihalf-taught girl, at least, Gregory ha

acted with wholly unusual wisdom. It wawith a sense of half-contemptuouamusement at her folly she rememberehow she had once fancied that Gregor

was marrying beneath him. Sally was fafrom perfect, but when it was a matter oessentials the man was not fit to brush heshoes.

"My dear," she said, "I really don't knowexactly what I—have—done, but if iamounts to anything it is a pleasure to me.



Then they went together into the bigeneral room where Gregory was talkino Winifred somewhat volubly. Agatha

however, fancied from his manner that hhad, at least, the grace to feel ashamed ohimself. Supper, she heard Mrs. Nansesay, would be ready very shortly, and

feeling in no mood for generaconversation she sat near a windowooking out across the harvest field unti

she heard a distant shout, and saw waggon appear on the crest of the riseThen, to her astonishment, two of thbinders stopped, and she saw a couple o

men who sprang down from them run tmeet the waggon. In another moment owo more of the teams stopped, and a fain

clamour of cries went up, while here an

here little running figures straggled up th



slope. Then her companions clustereabout her at the window, wondering, andWinifred turned to Hastings.

"What are they shouting for?" she asked"They are all crowding about the waggonow."

Agatha felt suddenly dazed and dizzyfor she knew what the answer to thaquestion must be even before Mrs

Hastings spoke.

"It's Harry coming back," she said, angasped.

In another moment they streamed out ohe house, and Agatha found it scarcel

possible to follow them, for the sudde



revulsion of feeling had almosoverpowered her. Still, she reached thdoor, and saw the waggon drawn up

amidst a cluster of struggling men, and band bye Wyllard, whom they surroundedbreak out as if by force from the midst ohem. She stood on the threshold waitin

him, and in the midst of her exultation pang smote her as she saw how gaunt anworn he was. He came straight towardher, apparently regardless of the othersand clasping the hands she held out drewher into the house.

"So you have not married Gregory yet?he said, and laughed triumphantly when hsaw the answer in her shining eyes.

"No," she said softly, "it is certain that



will never marry him."

Wyllard drew her back still further wit

a compelling grasp.

"Why?" he asked.

Agatha looked up at him, and then turneher eyes away.

"I was waiting for you," she said simply



"'I was waiting for you,' she said

simply."

Then he took her in his arms and kisseher before he turned, still with her hand ihis, to face the others who were nowflocking back to the house, and in anothe

moment or two they went in togetheamidst a confused clamour of goowishes.

THE END.



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