On the Monday morning, Jernyngham was shown into the parlor of the hotel where a commissioned officer of the police sat waiting for him. He had keen, observant eyes, but his manner was quiet, and Jernyngham endeavored to control his impatience.

“I suppose you know that Prescott has returned to his farm?” he said, taking the chair the other pointed to.

“I have been informed so,” the officer replied.

“Then may I ask what you mean to do?”

“We have come to no decision.”

“But your men have a warrant for him!”

The officer changed his position and his expression hinted at forbearance.

“That is so. On the whole, I think it should not have been issued.”

“You must not let the fellow’s return influence you unduly.”

“Very true,” said the other with a calm which Jernyngham found maddening. “It would be unwise to infer too much from that.”

“He is a bold man; he has, no doubt, counted on the effect his coming back would have,” Jernyngham urged.

“It’s possible,” the officer agreed.

Jernyngham’s nerves had given way beneath the strain he had borne, and he now stood up, trembling with anger. 217

“Am I to understand that you intend to leave the fellow alone? Now, when he is within your reach, you will not arrest him? The scoundrel killed my son!”

“Might I suggest your sitting down again?” said the officer calmly. “Let me try to put the matter before you as we look at it. To begin with, we can’t very well press the charge you make against Prescott without some proof of the victim’s death, which has not been discovered yet. The muskeg, I must remind you, was drained and nothing found. The handsome reward you offered led to no result, though every man in the district who had any time to spare spent it in searching the bluffs. Corporal Curtis has made systematic investigations, but they have been fruitless.”

“Corporal Curtis is a man of whose intelligence I have a very poor opinion!” said Jernyngham hotly.

His companion smiled.

“That’s a point upon which I don’t altogether share your views.”

“In short, you intend to let the matter drop! I must protest against such a scandalous failure of justice! But you shall not let it drop; I warn you that I shall apply to Ottawa, where there are people who can put upon you the pressure that seems to be needed!”

A look of weariness crept into the officer’s face.

“You have my sympathy, Mr. Jernyngham, but you can’t be allowed to interfere with the Northwest Police.”

Jernyngham pulled himself together.

“I had no wish to be offensive, though I meant what I said. Suppose this fellow goes off again—for good—as soon as he has sold his wheat?”

“That will have to be guarded against. He will be watched; if he leaves his farm, he will be followed.” 218

“He gave you the slip neatly on a previous occasion.”

“Quite true,” said the officer. “Our men are not infallible. I think I can promise that it will not happen again.” Then he rose. “I have some business waiting and you must excuse me. I can assure you that nothing which promises to throw any light upon the matter will be neglected.”

He opened the door and politely but firmly bowed out his visitor. Then he called Curtis, who was waiting below.

“I dare say you can guess Mr. Jernyngham’s errand,” he said. “Unless we can hit on the truth before long, you’ll have that gentleman in the guard-room.”

Curtis looked astonished and his superior smiled compassionately.

“I mean as a sufferer from mental derangement. Don’t be communicative, and confine yourself to reassuring generalities, if you come across him. His mind’s morbidly fixed on punishing Prescott. I don’t think he can be convinced that the man is innocent.”

“I can’t help meeting him, sir. He spends his time following me about. In a way, one can’t blame him for what he thinks.”

“Though it doesn’t agree with your conclusions? Sit down; we have a number of things to talk about.”

“Well, sir,” said Curtis, “this is certainly a mixed-up case. I’ve said nothing all along to disturb people’s belief that it was Prescott we were after, but if I had to corral one of the two, I’d get Wandle. The land agency man gave us a good description of him.”

His superior nodded thoughtfully.

“Prescott impersonated Cyril Jernyngham before his supposed death, and Wandle personated him afterward; 219 the latter with the more obvious motive. The point is that there’s no evidence of collusion, but rather disagreement, between the two. Of course, we could arrest Wandle now.”

“Yes, sir. As soon as the agent identified him, we could prove forgery and falsification of the land sale record. He’d be safe in the guard-room or a penitentiary.”

“Just so; we will have him there sooner or later, but if he’s guilty of the more serious charge, he’d have no opportunity for giving himself away. I’d rather he was left at large and you kept your eye on him. The same applies to Prescott. Now I’ve been making a fresh study of the diagram of the footsteps near the muskeg, and I can see no fault in the conclusions you arrived at—only the remains can’t be found.”

“Sure, that’s a weak point, sir. But I might mention the case of the person who was found in a bluff a few miles from home after they’d searched the district for six months.”

“It has been in my mind. But you have other matters to report on. What about the disturbance on the Indian reservation?”

While they discussed it, Jernyngham set out for the Leslie homestead and on his arrival found Gertrude alone. Sitting down with a shiver, he looked at her dejectedly.

“I have failed again. They will do nothing; there’s no satisfaction to be had,” he said. “I drove out my son by arbitrary harshness, and now the only reparation I might have made is denied me.”

“You were harsh,” assented Gertrude. “I have begun to realize it since we came to Canada—one sees things differently here. But, in a sense, I think you 220 were not to be blamed; you acted in the belief that you were right.”

She had seldom ventured to address him with so much candor and she was surprised at his calmness.

“Yes,” he said, “it is some relief to remember that; but I was wrong.”

“Then shouldn’t it make you more careful not to fall into a similar error again? You have a fixed idea in your mind and the way you dwell on it is breaking you down; seeing you suffer is wearing me. Can’t you believe that there is room for doubt?”

“I wish I could,” he said with some gentleness, recognizing the anxious appeal in her voice. “But I imagined you were as convinced as I am of Prescott’s guilt.”

“Oh,” she replied miserably, “I believed I was; but I don’t know what to think!”

He noticed the distress in her face with uncomprehending sympathy. He was fond of her, in his stern, reserved fashion, and knew she must deeply feel the loss of her brother.

“As soon as he saw he was suspected, Prescott ran away,” he continued. “That must count against him. If he had had any motive except the wish to escape, he would have mentioned it.”

Gertrude sat silent, tormented by confused emotions. Prescott had told her he was going to hunt for Cyril, and until she had seen his devotion to Muriel she had felt that she must believe in him; then her mind had been filled with jealousy and doubt. She thought she hated him; after all, he might be guilty. It was not her part to speak in his defense; though she felt she was acting treacherously, she could not stand up for him. 221

“It is possible that the police were wrong about Cyril,” she said at length.

“I’m afraid not,” said Jernyngham. “It might be urged that Prescott has come back; but I believe that was only to sell his wheat.” He broke into a harsh laugh. “One must admit that the fellow has courage; but he won’t find it easy to escape again. Every move of his will be watched.”

Gertrude sat very still for a few moments, her lips tightly pressed together. Then she made a gesture of weariness.

“Oh,” she said, “it’s all so hard to bear! There’s nothing but doubt and suspense; not a ray of comfort!”

Getting up languidly she went out and left her father lost in thought.

An hour or two afterward, Prescott sat near the stove in his homestead, moodily ma............