your difficulties."

Benson hesitated. He would have resented an attempt to use his
troubles as a text for improving remarks, since he already knew his
failings. What he desired was a means of escaping their consequences,
and the American, whose tone was reassuringly matter of fact, seemed to
offer it. He began an explanation and, with the help of a few leading
questions, made his financial position fairly clear.

"Well," said Harding, "Clarke has certainly got a tight hold on you,
but I guess it's possible to shake him off. As things stand, however,
it seems to me he has most to gain from your death."

"He couldn't count on that; to do the fellow justice, he'd hardly go so
far, but there's some truth in what you say." Benson looked disturbed
and irresolute, but after a few moments he abruptly threw his cigar
away and leaned forward with a decided air. "If you'll have me, I'll
go with you."

"You're wise," Harding said quietly.

Shortly afterwards Benson left them and Harding said to Blake, "Now you
had better go along and see if you can learn anything from Clarke about
our road. He's a rogue, but that's no reason we shouldn't make him
useful. If he can help us, pay him and be careful what you say.
Remember that he was watching you at the _Windsor_, and I've a
suspicion that he was standing in the shadow near the stairs when
Benson talked last night."

Borrowing a saddle, Blake rode over to Clarke's homestead, which had a
well-kept, prosperous look, and found its owner in a small room
furnished as an office. Files of papers and a large map of the Western
Provinces hung upon one wall; the floor was uncovered and a rusty stove
stood in the middle of it, but Clarke was seated at a handsome American
desk. He wore old overalls and the soil upon his boots suggested that
he had been engaged in fall ploughing. As Benson came in he looked up
and the light fell upon his face. It was deeply lined and of a curious
dead colour, but while it bore a sensual stamp and something in it
hinted at cruelty, it was, Blake felt, the face of a clever and
determined man.

"Ah!" he said, "you have ridden over for a talk. Glad to see you.
Have a cigar."

Blake, who took one, explained his errand and Clarke seemed to
consider. Then he took out a small hand-drawn map and passed it to his
visitor.

"I won't ask why you are going north, as I daresay it's a secret," he
remarked. "However, though it's too valuable for me to l