these thoughts away; to indulge in them
would only make the self-denial he must practise the harder.

He next tried to occupy his mind with Gertrude Jernyngham, for he was
still without a clue to her disconcerting change of mood. She had no
great attraction for him, but he had pitied her and found a certain
pleasure in her society. It was strange that after taking his view of her
brother's fate against the one her father held, she should suddenly turn
upon him in bitter anger. He was hurt at this, particularly as he did not
think the revelation that he had personated Cyril accounted for
everything. However, as it was unavoidable, he thought he could bear Miss
Jernyngham's suspicion.

He was disturbed in his reflections by a sudden jolt of the train as it
stopped at a water-tank. Getting down with the others, he saw a man
standing in the entrance of a half-finished wooden building. The fellow
looked like a mechanic, and his short blue-serge jacket and other details
of his dress suggested that he was an Englishman. On speaking to him,
Prescott learned that the train would be detained a while, because a
locomotive and some empty cars were coming down the line. The man further
mentioned that a number of railroad hands had been engaged in putting up
the building until lately, when they had been sent on somewhere else, and
Prescott inquired if there had been a man among them who answered to his
friend's description.

"There was," said the other dryly, and called to somebody inside: "Here's
a fellow asking for Kermode!"

"Bring him in!" replied a voice, and Prescott entered the building.

It contained a pump and two large steel tanks. Near one of them a man was
doing something with a drill, but he took out his pipe and pointed to a
piece of sacking laid on a beam.

"Sit down and have a smoke," he said. "You have plenty of time. Was
Kermode a friend of yours?"

Prescott looked about the place. He saw that it was a filtering station
for the treatment of water unfit for locomotive use.

"Thanks," he responded. "I knew Kermode pretty well; but I needn't stop
you."

"Oh, don't mind that!" grinned the other. "We're not paid by the piece on
this job. Besides, they've some chisels for us on your train and we
haven't got them yet."

"You're English, aren't you?" Prescott asked. "Are you stopping out
here?"

"Not much!" exclaimed the other with scorn. "What d'you take me for?
There's more in life than whacking rivets and