thing for her to oppose him, but Jernyngham was too
preoccupied to be surprised at her boldness, and he made a gesture of
deprecation.

"You must forgive me, Mr. Prescott--my daughter's right. But to offer me
assurances that must prove false is rank cruelty. I have faced the worst;
I'm not strong enough to bear a second blow, which is what must follow if
I listen to you. As it is, the strain is merciless."

His voice and bearing showed it. Indeed, one could have imagined that it
would have been better had he yielded a little more, but his eyes
expressed a grim, vengeful determination. He was not the man to weaken,
he would hold out until he broke down; but his daughter and Prescott were
filled with fears for him.

"I'm sorry," said the rancher. "Has Curtis thought of anything new?"

"No," Jernyngham answered harshly. "The police can entertain only one
idea at a time; they can read the meaning of footprints and there their
ability ends. They have no power of organization; I can't force them to
make investigations on a proper scale, and I'm helpless until harvest's
over. Then, when men can be hired, I'll have every bluff and ravine in
the country searched. If I spend the rest of my life here, I'll find the
guilty man!"

He said nothing further, and there was a strained silence while he sat,
leaning forward limply, with bent head, and a thin hand clenched hard
upon the table. Rousing himself by and by, he took the cup of tea
Gertrude passed to him, and set it down without drinking. It made a sharp
clatter, but he left it setting near him as if he had forgotten it.
Unable to bear the sight of his distress, Prescott went quietly out, and
when he was leaving the house Gertrude joined him.

"Perhaps I should have stayed with him, but I was afraid to speak," she
said. "Besides, there was nothing to be said."

"This can't go on," Prescott declared. "It's too much for him. I can't
leave here until the harvest's over, and then the grain ought to be
hauled in, but I've thought of making a tour of inquiry along the new
railroad and round the Alberta ranches and the mines in British
Columbia."

Gertrude looked grateful.

"It would be a great relief to feel that something was being done. But--"
she added hesitatingly, "your time is valuable and there would be
expense. I have some means, Mr. Prescott, and though I dare not speak to
my father about it, you must draw on me."

"We'll talk about it later. I wish I could go now,