ere are all these high-toned English girls coming from, Jack?" he
said. "You have brought another one this time."

Leaving the man without an answer, Prescott rejoined his companion.

"Are there any English people staying near the settlement?" she asked.

"The fellow was alluding to Miss Hurst."

"Muriel Hurst?" Gertrude exclaimed sharply. "Was she here with you?"

"Yes." Prescott regretted that she had asked for an explanation of the
operator's remarks. "I once drove her in; Cyril's team was doing
something else. But you said you wanted to visit the drygoods store,
didn't you?"

Gertrude accompanied him there and when he left her in the hands of a
lady clerk she fancied that she was favored with somewhat unusual
attention on his account. The man seemed to be a favorite in the
settlement. She spent a tedious afternoon in the hotel parlor while he
went about the business that had brought him in and the team rested. It
was a relief when he reappeared in time for supper; and after that they
set out again. The sun set before they reached the homestead, the air
grew bracingly cool, and the prairie rolled away before them, dim and
mysterious, streaked with shadowy blurs of bluffs until a full moon rose
and flooded it with silvery light. There was strange, deep silence except
for the thud of hoofs which rose and fell in sharp staccato rhythm.

Gertrude was tired when Prescott helped her down at the homestead, but
all her senses were unusually alert. She had enjoyed what she felt had
been an invigorating day, and she admitted that, although she by no means
agreed with all the rancher said, his breezy talk had added to its zest.

CHAPTER IX

PRESCOTT MAKES A PROMISE

The fortnight that followed Gertrude's drive to Sebastian passed
uneventfully, though the minds of three of the occupants of the homestead
were filled with disturbing thoughts. Prescott spent the time working
hard at his harvest, but he wished that something might relieve him of
his guests, whose presence he found embarrassing, since it forced him to
be continually on his guard. In spite of this, he was conscious of strong
sympathy for them and did what he could to ensure their comfort. He was
getting uneasy, for he saw that Cyril Jernyngham had involved him in a
maze of complications from which there seemed to be no escape. It was
obvious that appearances were against him; the evidence that Curtis had
obtained pointed to his being implicated in th