t is possible that she would have taken some trouble to
oblige him; but his request that she should offer shelter to another girl
whose acquaintance he seemed to have made in a most casual manner was
received with marked coldness. Kermode, indeed, felt sorry he had
suggested it when he left the store and set out for a shack belonging to
the widow of a man killed on the line. She was elderly and grim, a strict
Methodist from the east, who earned a pittance by mending the workmen's
clothes. After catechizing Kermode severely, she gave a very qualified
assent; and returning to the hotel, he found the girl anxiously waiting
for him. She looked relieved when he reported his success.

"I had better go at once," she said. "You think Mrs. Jasper will take me
in?"

Kermode picked up the bag.

"To tell the truth, she only promised to have a look at you." Then he
smiled reassuringly. "I've no doubt there'll be no difficulty when she
has done so."

The girl followed him and, as they went slowly up the street, while all
the loungers watched them, she gave Kermode a confused explanation. Her
name was Helen Foster, and she had come from England to join a brother
who had taken up a farm near Drummond, which Prescott had heard was a
remote settlement. Her brother had told her to notify him on her arrival
at Winnipeg and await instructions, but on board the steamer she had met
the wife of a railroad man engaged on the new line who had offered her
company to a point in the west from which Helen could reach her
destination. On arriving at the railroad man's station, he had sent her
on by the supply train.

A little distance up the street, Kermode stopped outside a shed in which
a fellow of unprepossessing appearance was rubbing down a horse. His
character, as Kermode knew, was no better than his looks.

"I must see the liveryman," he told the girl, and when he had sent the
hostler for him the proprietor came out.

"The round-trip to Drummond will take six days, and you'd want a team,"
he said. "I'd have to charge you thirty dollars."

Kermode looked dubious, his companion dismayed. She had three dollars and
a few cents.

"Can you drive this lady there?" Kermode asked.

"I can't. Jim would have to go."

"I think not," said Kermode firmly. "I'll see you about a saddle-horse in
the morning." He turned to the girl: "We'll go along again."

A few minutes later they reached the widow's shack and Kermode waited
some time after his