Jernyngham seemed to be struggling with some stirring of his deeper
nature beneath the crust of mannerisms.

"Mr. Prescott," he said, "I may tell you that I now fear I treated the
lad injudiciously, and perhaps with needless harshness. I looked upon
extravagance and eccentricity as signs of depravity. It was a vast relief
when I heard from Colston, whom you may have met; that Cyril had
prospered and was leading an exemplary life in Canada."

The blood crept into Prescott's face, and Jernyngham glanced at him
curiously before he proceeded.

"We were somewhat hurt that he would not come home; but after past
mistakes I could not urge him, and it seemed possible that he might
change his mind later. Then the dreadful blow fell--crushing and filling
me with all the bitterness of useless regret. I had spoken too late; the
opportunity I would not use in time had gone."

He broke off, and his face had grown white and stern when he went on
again:

"There is only one thing I can do, but if needful, I will devote the rest
of my life to it--that is, to track down the man who killed my son!"

He was silent for the next few minutes, and then, after a few words on
indifferent subjects, intended, Prescott thought, to cover his display of
feeling, he turned away, leaving the rancher smoking thoughtfully.

CHAPTER VIII

A DAY ON THE PRAIRIE

A week after Jernyngham's arrival at the homestead he sat among the
sheaves in the harvest field late one afternoon studying a letter which
the mail-carrier had just brought him. His daughter, sheltered from the
strong sunlight by the tall stocked sheaves, was reading an elegantly
bound book of philosophy. Gertrude Jernyngham had strict rules of life
and spent an hour or two of every day in improving her mind, without, so
far as her friends had discovered, any enlargement of her outlook. Among
her numerous virtues was an affectionate solicitude about her father's
health, which was variable. Though still muscularly vigorous, Jernyngham
was getting an old man, and he had been out of sorts of late.

"I'm glad you are looking much better than you did this morning," she
said, glancing at him after a while.

"Thank you," Jernyngham rejoined punctiliously. "I suppose it was the
strain of the past few weeks that tried me, and perhaps I have been doing
too much, traveling backward and forward between here and the muskeg."
Then with an effort he banished his painful thoughts and smiled. "I