may
change his mind long before he gets there."

"Yes," Prescott replied; "that's the kind of man he is."

Ferguson smiled.

"You and Kermode strike me as differing in many ways; yet you seem
strongly attached to him."

"That's true," Prescott assented. "I can't see that I owe him anything,
and he once led me into a piece of foolishness that nobody but himself
could have thought of. I knew the thing was crazy, but I did it when he
urged me, and I've regretted it ever since. Still, when I meet the fellow
I expect I shan't have a word of blame for him."

"He's a man I had a strong liking for, though on many matters our points
of view were opposite. However, I dare say it's something to be thankful
for that we're not all made alike."

"Kermode's unique," Prescott explained. "I'm of the plodding kind and I
find that consequences catch me up. Kermode's different: he plunges into
recklessness and the penalty falls on somebody else."

"You don't mean by his connivance?"

"Never! It's the last thing I meant. Kermode never shirks. Bring a thing
home to him and he'll face it, but somehow he generally escapes. There's
the matter I mentioned--he and I played a fool trick, and while he
rambles about the country, flinging a foreman down an embankment,
assisting a lady in distress, posing as a temperance reformer, in his
usual inconsequent way, I'm deep in trouble, and so are other people who
don't deserve it. So far I've always reached the scene of his latest
exploit soon after he had left; but the man must be found."

Ferguson laughed.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Follow him to the Pacific, if necessary. As the country isn't opened up,
he can't get off the line."

"I'm afraid you're going to have a very rough journey. The track's
surveyed and blazed; they're working at it in sections, but there are big
gaps where nothing has been done yet, and they have been withdrawing a
large number of men. Crossing the mountains is a tough proposition in the
winter."

"Kermode didn't seem afraid of it."

"He started two weeks ago, when there had been less snow. You'll find it
difficult to get through the passes now."

"Anyway," declared Prescott, "I have to get through."

Ferguson pondered the simple answer. It was, he thought, typical of the
man, and the contrast between him and his friend became more forcible.
Kermode exercised a curious charm. His gay, careless nature made him
excellent company, and he had a str