d sold his horse at a lonely
farm and he was now tired and hungry, but he felt satisfied that he was
on the right track and had succeeded in eluding the police. Curtis and
Private Stanton were men of fixed ideas; believing Jernyngham to be dead,
they had, no doubt, merely made a few perfunctory inquiries at the
nearest railroad camps. Moreover, as they had reason for concluding that
Prescott would seek refuge across the American boundary, they would
concentrate their efforts on looking for him there. Accordingly, he felt
safe from pursuit.

By and by he stopped to look about. To the eastward all was gray, a dim
waste of grass dotted with shadowy trees; but a vivid band of green still
glowed on the western horizon. In front lay a broad shallow basin,
streaked with filmy trails of mist, between which came the wan gleam of
little pools. A causeway stretched out into the morass, sprinkled with
the indistinct figures of toiling men. At its inner end, where it left
the higher ground, a row of cars stood on a side-track, and near-by there
were ranged straggling lines of tents and wooden shacks. Wisps of blue
smoke drifted across the swamp, and a beam of strong white light streamed
out from the electric head-lamp of a locomotive. The still air was filled
with the clink of shovels, the clang of flung-down rails, and the sharp
rattle of falling gravel.

Going on until he reached the camp, Prescott stopped beside a group of
men sitting about a fire, and loosed the heavy pack that galled his
shoulders.

"If you can give me a place to lie down and a bit of supper, boys, I'd be
obliged," he said.

Two or three of them turned and looked at him without much curiosity.
They were strong, brown-faced fellows, dressed in old duck overalls and
slate-colored shirts, with shapeless hats and dilapidated knee-boots.

"Why, certainly," responded one in a clean English intonation. "However,
as we're paying for our board, we'll have to invite you as the guest of
the construction contractor; but there's no reason you should be shy
about accepting his hospitality. Sit down until Shan Li brings the grub
along."

"Here's a place," said another. "Want a job?"

"I don't know yet," Prescott answered. "I'm looking for a friend of mine:
man of middle height, with pale-blue eyes and a curious twinkling smile.
He was wearing a green shirt of finer stuff than they generally sell at
the settlements when I last saw him, and I expect he'd have a fresh sc