e said. "It seems to me that argument has
quite frequently accounted for a good deal of meanness. It is tolerably
presumptuous for any man to consider himself indispensable."

"Well," said Breckenridge, divided between anger and approval, "I have
found out already that it's seldom any use trying to convince you, but
each time you made this round I've driven with you, and it's quite obvious
that if one of us crossed the bridge it would suit the purpose. Now, I
don't think the Sheriff could rake up very much against me."

Grant laid his hand on the lad's shoulder. "I'm going to cross the bridge,
but I don't purpose that either of us should fall into the Sheriff's
clutches," he said. "You saw what Jardine's glass had gone down to?"

Breckenridge nodded. "It dropped like that before the last blizzard we
had."

Grant turned and looked about him, and Breckenridge shivered as he
followed his gaze. They had driven out from behind the rise now and a
bitter wind met them in the face. There was not very much of it as yet,
but all feeling seemed to die out of the lad's cheeks under it, and it
brought a little doleful moaning out of the darkness. Behind them stars
shone frostily in the soft indigo, but elsewhere a deepening obscurity was
creeping up across the prairie, and sky and snow were blurred and merged
one into the other.

"There's one meaning to that," said Grant. "We'll have snow in an hour or
two, and when it comes it's going to be difficult to see anything. In the
meanwhile, we'll drive round by Busby's and get our supper while the
cow-boys cool. The man who hangs around a couple of hours doing nothing in
a frost of this kind is not to be relied upon when he's wanted in a
hurry."

He flicked the horses, and in half an hour the pair were sitting in a
lonely log-house beside a glowing stove while its owner prepared a meal.
Two other men with bronzed faces sat close by, and Breckenridge fancied he
had never seen his comrade so cheerful. His cares seemed to have fallen
from him, his laugh had a pleasant ring, and there was something in his
eyes which had not been there for many weary months. Breckenridge wondered
whether it could be due to anything Miss Torrance had said to him, but
kept his thoughts to himself, for that was a subject upon which one could
not ask questions.

In the meanwhile, Clavering and the Sheriff found the time pass much less
pleasantly--on the bluff. The wind that whistled through it grew colder