On the day after Prescott’s avowal, Muriel found Gertrude alone and sat down opposite her.

“Don’t you think you ought to insist on your father’s going home?” she asked. “The strain is wearing him out; he may lose his reason if he stays.”

Gertrude looked up sharply. There was no sympathy in the girl’s tone and her eyes were hard. Muriel might have forgiven a wrong done to herself, but she was merciless about an injury to one she loved.

“Ah!” exclaimed Gertrude. “You wish to get rid of us?”

“No; my suggestion was really generous, because I would much rather you both remained and saw Mr. Prescott proved innocent.”

Not knowing what had prompted her rival, Gertrude gave her jealous anger rein.

“I’m afraid we couldn’t wait. Even my father’s patience would hardly hold out.”

“It wouldn’t be long tried; but in a way you’re right. It’s dangerous for him to stay here, and you’re responsible for his condition.”

“I’m responsible?” cried Gertrude with a start.

“Of course! You knew Mr. Prescott went away to look for your brother and you kept it secret; when he saved your father from freezing, he almost convinced him that he had nothing to do with Cyril’s disappearance. 333 You must have known how it would have eased his mind to get rid of his dreadful suspicions, but you worked upon him and brought them back.”

Gertrude sank down in her chair with a shiver. A denial would serve no purpose and she was conscious of her guilt.

“Could you expect me to be indifferent to the loss of my brother?”

“You knew you had not lost him. You believed what Mr. Prescott told you, until we came.” Muriel flushed and hesitated, for this was as far as she would go. Even in her anger, she would not taunt her beaten rival with defeat. “Now,” she continued, “you must see what you have done. You have made your father suffer terribly; I think you have weakened his mind, and, if I hadn’t turned the pistol, you would have made him kill an innocent man. He seems too dazed and shaken to realize what he meant to do, but the thing was horrible.”

Gertrude sat silent for a few moments, her face drawn and colorless. Then she looked up.

“I couldn’t see what it would lead to. Do the others know what you have told me? Does Mr. Prescott?”

She looked crushed and defenseless and Muriel’s resentment softened.

“No,” she said. “Nobody knows, and Mr. Prescott will never suspect; he’s not the man to think hard things of a woman. But I’m going to insist on your taking your father away.”

“But how can I?” cried Gertrude. “You know how determined he is!”

“You have influenced him already; you must do so again. You will regret it all your life if you let him stay.” 334

“Well,” Gertrude promised desperately, “I will try.” Then a thought struck her and her expression grew gentler. “Muriel, have you realized that if we leave here soon, the Colstons will accompany us and you will have to go with them?”

“No,” Muriel replied with a resolute smile; “I will stay.”

Gertrude turned her head and there was silence for a while. Then she said with an effort:

“I can’t ask your forgiveness; it would be too much, and I’m not sure that I wish to have it. But I feel that you are generous.”

“Take your father home,” Muriel responded, and getting up went quietly out.

During the next fortnight, Gertrude exerted all her powers of persuasion, without much success. Jernyngham was apathetic, moody, and morose, and his companions found the days pass heavily. Then one evening Prescott drove over with the excuse of a message for Leslie, and Muriel, putting on her furs, slipped out to speak to him before he left. They stood near the barn, talking softly, until there was a pause and Muriel looked out across the prairie. It was a clear, cold evening; a dull red glow blazed above the great plain’s rim, and the bluffs stood out in wavy masses with sharp distinctness. The snow had lost its glitter and was fading into soft blues and grays.

The darker line of the trail caught the girl’s eye and, following it, she noticed a horseman riding toward the homestead.

“Nobody has been here for a while,” she said. “I wonder who it can be?”

Prescott’s team, which had been growing impatient of 335 the cold, began to move, and he was occupied for the next minute in quieting them. Then he looked around, started violently, and stood very still, his eyes fixed on the approaching man.

“Jernyngham, by all that’s wonderful!” he gasped, and sent a shout ringing across the snow: “Cyril!”

The man waved his hand, and Prescott, turning at a sound, saw Muriel lean weakly against the side of the sleigh. The color had faded from her face, but her eyes were shining.

“O Jack!” she said breathlessly. “Now everything will be put straight!”

Prescott realized from the greatness of her relief what she had borne on his account; but there was something that must be done and he ran to the stable, where Leslie was at work.

“Get into my sleigh, and drive to Harper’s as hard as you can!” he said. “Curtis was there when I passed; bring him here at once!”

Leslie came out with him and understood when he saw the newcomer. Jumping into the vehicle, he drove off, while Prescott ran to meet Cyril, who dismounted and heartily shook hands with him.

“It’s good to see you, Jack,” he said, and indicated the galloping team. “The sensation I seem to make shows no signs of lessening.”

“Haven’t you heard!” Prescott exclaimed. “Don’t you understand?”

“Not much,” Cyril replied with a careless laugh. “When I got off the train at the settlement, everybody stared at me, and there were anxious inquiries as to where I’d been. I promised to tell them about it another time, and at the livery-stable Kevan said something about 336 my being killed. I told him it didn’t look like it; and as the boys seemed determined on hearing my adventures; I rode off smartly. When I reached your place, Svendsen looked scared, and all I could get out of him was that you were here.”

Prescott made a gesture of comprehension. It was typical of Cyril that he had not taken the trouble to find out the cause of the excitement his appearance had aroused.

“Who is the lady?” Cyril asked.

“Miss Hurst. You had, perhaps, better know that she has promised to marry me.”

Cyril looked at him in frank astonishment, and then laughed.

“I suppose my surprise isn’t complimentary, but I wasn’t prepared for your news. Jack, you’re rather wonderful, but you have my best wishes, and you can tell me what brought Miss Hurst back by and by. No doubt she expects me to speak to her.”

“Thanks,” said Prescott dryly. “Whatever my capabilities of making a sensation are, they’re a long way behind yours.”

They walked toward the girl and Prescott led up his companion.

“Muriel,” he said, “Cyril Jernyngham wishes to be presented to you.”

She gave him her hand, and he realized that she was studying him carefully.

“I’m glad we have met,” she said. “I have heard a good deal about you.”

Cyril bowed with a mischievous smile.

“Nothing very much to my credit, I’m afraid. As an old friend of Jack’s, it’s my privilege to wish you every 337 happiness and assure you that you have got a much better man than the one you at first took him for.”

Muriel colored.

“Jack stands on his own merits.”

Then she turned to Prescott.

“Does he know? Have you told him?”

“Not yet. I’ve news for you, Cyril. Your father and sister are here.”

“What brought them?” There was astonishment in Cyril’s face, but he looked more disturbed than pleased.

“They thought you dead,” Muriel told him.

“Then I’m sorry if they’ve been anxious, but I can’t understand the grounds for it. In fact, everybody I’ve met seems to have gone crazy, except you and Jack.”

“We knew the truth,” said Muriel. “There are a number of explanations you will have to make, but you had better go in.”

The next moment the door opened and Gertrude appeared, as if in search of Muriel. She saw the group and broke into a startled cry.

“Cyril!”

He ran toward her and Prescott suggested that it might be advisable for him to retire, but Muriel would not agree.

“Give them a few minutes, Jack, and then we’ll go in together; you are one of us now and must be acknowledged. Besides, you have a right to hear what Cyril has to say.”

They walked briskly up the trail and when they turned to come back Muriel glanced at Prescott with a smile.

“Jack dear, I like him, but he said something that was true. I should never have fallen in love with the real Cyril Jernyngham.”

They found the others in the large sitting-room. 338 Cyril was talking gaily, though Prescott concluded from one remark that he had not yet given a full account of his adventures. Jernyngham sat rather limply in an easy-chair, as if the relief of finding his son safe had shaken him, but his eyes were less troubled and his manner calmer. He rose when he saw Prescott.

“Mr. Prescott,” he said, “I must own before these others, who have heard me speak hardly of you, that I have done you a grievous wrong. I have no excuse to urge in asking you to forgive it. There is nothing that now seems to mitigate my folly.”

“All you thought and did was very natural, sir,” Prescott answered quietly. “I tried not to blame you and I feel no resentment.”

“What’s this?” Cyril glanced up sharply, and as he noticed the guilty faces of the others and Gertrude’s strained expression, the truth dawned on him.

“Oh!” he cried, “it’s preposterous! You all suspected my best friend!”

“If it’s any consolation, we’re very much ashamed of it,” Colston replied. “And there was one exception; Muriel never shared our views.”

Cyril still looked disturbed.

“Its obvious that I’ve given everybody a good deal of trouble, but I feel that you deserved it for your foolishness. May I ask on what grounds you suspected Jack?”

Seeing that none of them was ready to answer, Prescott interposed.

“Perhaps I had better explain; I think you ought to know.”

He related the events that had followed his friend’s disappearance, and when he had finished, Cyril turned to the others. 339

“After all, you were not so much to blame as I thought at first—you don’t know Jack as I do, and things undoubtedly looked bad. Now I’ll give you an account of my adventures and clear up the mystery.”

“Not yet,” said Prescott with a smile. “You don’t seem to realize that instead of excusing people for suspicions they could hardly avoid, you’re expected to make some defense for the carelessness that gave rise to them. Anyway, Curtis is entitled to an explanation, and as I sent him word, he should be here soon.”

“You did right,” Jernyngham broke in with a trace of asperity. “It’s proper that the blundering fellow who misled us all should have his stupidity impressed on him!”

They waited, talking about indifferent matters, until Curtis arrived............