After a hot and tedious journey, George and his companion alighted one afternoon at a little station on a branch line, and Edgar looked about with interest when the train went on again. A telegraph office with a baggage-room attached occupied the middle of the low platform, a tall water-tank stood at the end, and three grain elevators towered high above a neighboring side-track. Facing the track, stood a row of wooden buildings varying in size and style: they included a double-storied hotel with a veranda in front of it, and several untidy shacks. Running back from them, two short streets, thinly lined with small houses, led to a sea of grass.

"Sage Butte doesn\'t strike one as a very exhilarating place," George remarked. "We\'ll stroll round it, and then see about rooms, since we have to stay the night."

They left the station, but the main street had few attractions to offer. Three stores, with strangely-assorted, dusty goods in their windows fronted the rickety plankwalk; beyond these stood a livery stable, a Chinese laundry, and a few dwelling-houses. Several dilapidated wagons and buggies were scattered about the uneven road. In the side street, disorderly rows of agricultural implements surrounded a store, and here and there little board dwellings with wire mosquito-doors and net-guarded windows, stood among low trees. Farther back were four very small wooden churches. It was unpleasantly hot, though a fresh breeze blew clouds of dust through the place.

"I\'ve seen enough," said Edgar. "The Butte isn\'t pretty; we\'ll assume it\'s prosperous, though I haven\'t noticed much sign of activity yet. Let\'s go to the hotel."

When they reached it, several untidy loungers sat half asleep in the shade of the veranda, and though they obstructed the approach to the entrance none of them moved. Passing behind them, George opened a door filled in with wire-mesh, and they entered a hot room with a bare floor, furnished with a row of plain wooden chairs. After they had rung a bell for several minutes, a man appeared and looked at them with languid interest from behind a short counter.

"Can you put us up?" George inquired.

"Sure," was the answer.

The man flung down a labeled key, twisted round his register, which was fitted in a swivel frame, and handed George a pen.

"We want two rooms," Edgar objected.

"Can\'t help that. We\'ve only got one."

"I suppose we\'d better take it. Where can one get a drink?"

"Bar," replied the other, indicating a gap in a neighboring partition.

"They\'re laconic in this country," Edgar remarked.

"Ever since I arrived in it, I\'ve felt as if I were a mere piece of baggage, to be hustled along anyway without my wishes counting."

"You\'ll get used to it after a while," George consoled him.

Entering the dark bar, Edgar refreshed himself with several ice-cooled drinks, served in what he thought were unusually small glasses. He felt somewhat astonished when he paid for them.

"Thirst\'s expensive on the prairie," he commented.

"Pump outside," drawled the attendant. "It\'s rather mean water."

They went upstairs to a very scantily furnished, doubled-bedded room.
George, warned by previous experience, glanced around.

"There\'s soap and a towel, anyway; but I don\'t see any water," he remarked. "I\'ll take the jar; they\'ll have a rain-tank somewhere about."

Edgar did not answer him. He was looking out of the open window, and now that there was little to obstruct his view, the prospect interested him. It had been a wet spring, and round the vast half-circle he commanded the prairie ran back to the horizon, brightly green, until its strong coloring gave place in the distance to soft neutral tones. It was blotched with crimson flowers; in the marshy spots there were streaks of purple; broad squares of darker wheat checkered the sweep of grass, and dwarf woods straggled across it in broken lines. In one place was the gleam of a little lake. Over it all there hung a sky of dazzling blue, across which great rounded cloud-masses rolled.

Edgar looked around as George came in with the water.

"That\'s great!" he exclaimed, indicating the prairie; and then, turning toward the wooden town, he added: "What a frightful mess man can make of pretty things! Still, I\'ve no doubt the people who built the Butte are proud of it."

"If you talk to them in that style, you\'ll soon discover their opinion," George laughed; "but I don\'t think it would be wise."

Soon afterward a bell rang for supper, and going down to a big room, they found seats at a table which had several other occupants. Two of them, who appeared to be railroad-hands, were simply dressed in trousers and slate-colored shirts, and when they rested their elbows on the tablecloth, they left grimy smears. George thought the third man of the party, who was neatly attired, must be the station-agent; the fourth was unmistakably a newly-arrived Englishman. As soon as they were seated, a very smart young woman came up and rattled off the names of various unfamiliar dishes.

"I think I\'ll have a steak; I know what that is," Edgar told her.

She withdrew, and presently surrounded him with an array of little plates, at which he glanced dubiously before he attacked the thin, hard steak with a nickeled knife which failed to make a mark on it. When he made a more determined effort, it slid away from him, sweeping some greasy fried potatoes off his plate, and he grew hot under the stern gaze of the girl, who reappeared with some coffee he had not ordered.

"Perhaps you had better take it away before I do more damage, and let me have some fish," he said humbly.

"Another time you\'ll say what you want at first. You can\'t prospect right through the menu," she rebuked him.

In the meanwhile George had been describing his companions on the train to one of the men opposite.

"He told me he was located in the district, but I didn\'t learn his name, and he didn\'t get off here," he explained. "Do you know him?"

"Sure," said the other. "It\'s Alan Grant, of Poplar, \'bout eighteen miles back. Guess he went on to the next station—a little farther, but it\'s easier driving, now they\'re dumping straw on the trail."

"Putting straw on the road?" Edgar broke in. "Why are they doing that?"

"You\'ll see, if you drive out north," the man answered shortly. Then he turned to his better-dressed companion. "What are you going to do with that carload of lumber we got for Grant?"

"Send the car on to Benton."

"She\'s billed here."

"Can\'t help that—the road\'s mistake. Grant ordered all his stuff to
Benton. What he says goes."

This struck George as significant—it was only a man of importance whose instructions would be treated with so much deference. Then the agent turned to Edgar.

"What do you think of this country?"

"The country\'s very nice. So far as I\'ve seen them, I can\'t say as much for the towns; they might be prettier."

"Might be prettier?" exclaimed the agent. "If they\'re not good enough for you, why did you come here?"

"I\'m not sure it was a very judicious move. But, you see, I didn\'t know what the place was like; and, after all, an experience of this kind is supposed to be bracing."

The agent ignored Edgar after this. He talked to George, and elicited the information that the latter meant to farm. Then he got up, followed by two of the others, and the remaining man with the English appearance turned to George diffidently.

"Do you happen to want a teamster?" he asked.

"I believe I\'ll want two," was the answer. "But I\'m afraid I\'ll have to hire Canadians."

The man\'s face fell. He looked anxious, and George remembered having seen a careworn woman tearfully embracing him before their steamer sailed. Her shabby clothes and despairing face had roused George\'s sympathy.

"Well," said the man dejectedly, "that\'s for you to decide; but I\'ve driven horses most of my life, and until I get used to things I\'d be reasonable about the pay. I was told these little places were the best to strike a job in; but, so far as I can find out, there\'s not much chance here."

George felt sorry for him. He suddenly made up his mind.

"What are farm teamsters getting now?" he asked a man who was leaving an adjacent table.

"Thirty dollars a month," was the answer.

"Thanks," said George, turning again to the Englishman. "Be ready to start with us to-morrow. I\'ll take you at thirty dollars; but if I don\'t get my value out of you, we\'ll have to part."

"No fear of that, sir," replied the other, in a tone of keen satisfaction.

When they got outside, Edgar looked at George with a smile.

"I\'m glad you engaged the fellow," he said; "but considering that you\'ll have to teach him, were you not a little rash?"

"I\'ll find out by and by." George paused, and continued gravely: "It\'s a big adventure these people make. Think of it—the raising of the passage money by some desperate economy, the woman left behind with hardly enough to keep her a month or two, the man\'s fierce anxiety to find some work! When I saw how he was watching me, I felt I had to hire him."

"Just so," responded Edgar. "I suppose I ought to warn you that doing things of the kind may get you into trouble some day; but cold-blooded prudence never did appeal to me." He took one of the chairs in front of the building and filled his pipe before he continued: "We\'ll sit here a while, and then we might as well stroll across the plain. The general-room doesn\'t strike me as an attractive place to spend the evening in."

An hour later they left the tall elevators and straggling town behind, and after brushing through a belt of crimson flowers, they followed the torn-up black trail that led into the waste. After a mile or two it broke into several divergent rows of ruts, and they went on toward a winding line of bluff across the short grass. Reaching that, they pushed through the thin wood of dwarf birch and poplar, skirting little pools from which mallard rose: and then, crossing a long rise, they sat down to smoke on its farther side. Sage Butte had disappeared, the sun had dipped, and the air was growing wonderfully fresh and cool. Here and there a house or barn rose from the sweep of grass; but for the most part it ran back into the distance lonely and empty. It was steeped in strong, cold coloring, but on its western rim there burned a vivid flush of rose and saffron. Edgar was impressed by its vastness and silence.

"This," he said thoughtfully, "makes up for a good deal. Once you get clear of the railroad, it\'s a captivating country."

"Have you decided yet what you\'re going to do in it?"

"It\'s too soon," Edgar rejoined. "The family idea was that I should stay about twelve months, and then go back and enter some profession. Ethel seems quite convinced that a little roughing it will prove beneficial. I might, however, stop out and try farming, which is one reason why you can have my services for nothing for a time. Considering what local wages are, don\'t you think you\'re lucky?"

"That," laughed George, "remains to be seen."

"Anyhow, there\'s no doubt that Sylvia Marston scores in securing you on the same favorable terms. It has struck me that she\'s a woman who gets things easily."

"She hasn\'t always done so. Can you imagine, for instance, what two years on a prairie farm must have been to a delicate, fastidious girl, brought up in luxury?"

"I\'ve an idea that Sylvia would manage to avoid a good many of the hardships."

"Sylvia would never shirk a duty," George declared firmly.

Edgar refilled his pipe.

"I\'ve been thinking about Dick Marston," he said. "After the way he was generally regarded at home, it was strange to hear that Canadian\'s opinions; but I\'ve a notion that this country\'s a pretty severe touchstone. I mean that the sort of qualities that make one popular in England may not prove of much use here."

"Dick lost his crop; that accounts for a good deal," George said shortly.

Edgar, knowing how staunch he was to his friends, changed the subject; and when the light grew dim they went back to the hotel. Breakfasting soon after six the next morning, they took their places in a light, four-wheeled vehicle, for which three persons\' baggage made a rather heavy load, and drove away with the hired man. The grass was wet with dew, the air invigoratingly cool, and for a time the fresh team carried them across the waste at an excellent pace. When he had got used to the frantic jolting, Edgar found the drive exhilarating. Poplar bluffs, little ponds, a lake shining amid tall sedges, belts of darkgreen wheat, went by; and while the horses plunged through tall barley-grass or hauled the vehicle over clods and ruts, the same vast prospect stretched away ahead. It filled the lad with a curious sense of freedom: there was no limit to the prairies—one could go on and on, across still wider stretches beyond the horizon.

By and by, however, they ran in among low sandy hills, dotted with dwarf pines here and there, and the pace slackened. The grass was thin, the wheels sank in deep, loose sand, and the sun was getting unpleasantly hot. For half an hour they drove on; and then the team came to a standstill, necked with spume, at the foot of a short, steep rise. Edgar alighted and found the heat almost insupportable. There was glaring sand all about him, and the breeze which swept the prairie was cut off by the hill in front.

"You\'ll have to help the team," George told him, as he went to the horses\' heads.

Edgar and the hired man each seized a wheel and endeavored to start the vehicle, while the horses plunged in the slipping sand. They made a few yards, with clouds of grit flying up about them, and afterward came to a stop again. Next they tried pushing; and after several rests they arrived, breathless and gasping, at the crest of the rise. There was a big hollow in front, and on the opposite side a ridge which looked steeper than the last one.

"How much do you think there is of this?" Edgar inquired.

"I can\'t say," George answered. "I know of one belt that runs for forty miles."

Even walking downhill was laborious, for they sank ankle-deep, but it was very much worse when they faced the ascent. Short as the hill was, it took them some time to climb; and, with the hired man\'s assistance, Edgar carried a heavy trunk up the last part of it. Then he sat down.

"I\'m not sure I can smoke, but I intend to try," he said. "If you mean to rush the next hill right off, you will go without me." He turned to the hired man. "What do you think of these roads, Grierson?"

"I\'ve seen better, sir," the other answered cautiously. "Perhaps the hills don\'t go on very far."

Edgar ruefully glanced ahead at scattered pines, clumps of brush, and ridges of gleaming sand.

"It\'s my opinion there\'s no end to them! Hauling a load of wheat through this kind of country must be a bit of an undertaking."

After a short rest, they toiled for an hour through the sand; and then rode slowly over a road thickly strewn with straw, which bore the wheels. It led them across lower ground to a strong wire fence, where it forked: one branch skirting the barrier along the edge of a muskeg, the other running through the enclosed land. Deciding to take the latter, George got down at the entrance, which was barred by several strands of wire, firmly fastened.

"Half an hour\'s work here," Edgar commented. "Driving\'s rather an arduous pastime in western Canada."

They crossed a long field of barley, a breadth of wheat, and passed an empty house; then wound through a poplar wood until they reached the grass again. It was long and rank, hiding the ruts and hollows in the trail; but after stopping a while for dinner in the shadow of a bluff, they jolted on, and in the afternoon they reached a smoother track. Crossing a low rise, they saw a wide stretch of wheat beneath them, with a house and other buildings near its margin.

"That," said George, "is Sylvia\'s farm."

Half an hour later, they drove through the wheat, at which George glanced dubiously; and then, traversing a belt of light sandy clods partly grown with weeds, they drew up before the house. It was double-storied, roomy, and neatly built of wood; but it was in very bad repair, and the barn and stables had a neglected and half-ruinous look. Implements and wagons which had suffered from exposure to the weather, stood about outside. Edgar noticed that George\'s face was grave.

"I am afraid we have our work cut out," he said. "We\'ll put up the team, and then look round the place and see what needs doing first."