construction train starting west in about half an hour,"
resumed the railroad hand. "If you get on board with the boys, it will
look as if you belonged to the gang."

Daylight had come when Prescott clambered up on one of the long flat cars
loaded with rails and ties, and in a few minutes the train started. It
followed what was called a cut-out line, which worked round the muskeg
and back to the main track through a country too difficult for the latter
to traverse; and for a while Prescott's interest was occupied by its
progress. Groups of men in brown overalls were seated on the rails, which
clanged musically in rude harmony with the clatter of the wheels. A sooty
cloud streamed back above them, now and then blotting out the clusters of
figures; the cars swayed and shook, and in view of the roughness of the
line Prescott admired the nerve of the engineer.

The wind that whipped his face was cold and pierced the blanket he had
flung over his shoulders; but the sunshine was growing brighter and the
mist in the hollows was rapidly vanishing. As a rule, the depressions
were swampy, and as they sped across them Prescott could see the huge
locomotive rocking, while the rails, which were spiked to ties thrown
down on brush, sank beneath the weight and sprang up again as the cars
jolted by. As they rushed down tortuous declivities, the cars banged and
canted round the curves, while Prescott held on tight, his feet braced
against a rail. It was better when they joined the graded track, and
toward noon he was given a meal with the others at a camp where a bridge
was being strengthened. When they started again, he lay down in his
blanket where the sunshine fell upon him and the end of the car kept off
the wind, and lighting his pipe became lost in reflection.

It was obvious that he must use every effort to find Jernyngham and he
thought he might succeed in this; but what then? To prove his innocence,
in which she already believed, would not bridge the gulf between him and
Muriel Hurst. It seemed impossible that she should be willing to marry a
working rancher. Yet he knew that he could not overcome his love for her;
there was pleasure as well as pain in remembering her frankness and
gaiety and confidence in him; and the charm of her beauty was strong. He
recalled the crimson of her lips, the glow of warm color in her hair, the
brightness of her smile, and the softness he had once or twice seen in
her violet eyes. Then he drove