fortunate
escape."

"How did I get here?" Jernyngham asked, leaning on the back of a chair,
for he felt shaky still.

"That's more than I can tell. Svendsen found you outside the door when he
tried to get across to the stable. You couldn't have been there long: a
few minutes, I guess, though we didn't hear you. Do your feet and hands
feel right?"

Jernyngham was glad that his host made no inquiries as to what had
brought him into the neighborhood.

"Thank you, yes," he said. "I must assure you that I had no intention of
seeking shelter in your house."

"So I should imagine," Prescott answered smiling. "However, there ought
to be a truce between even the deadliest enemies where there's a blizzard
raging and the temperature's forty below. Though I can't say you have
treated me well, I'm glad you didn't get frozen, and if you'll sit down,
I'll tell Mrs. Svendsen to bring you in some breakfast."

"With what there is between us, you could hardly expect me to sit at your
table."

"That's a comfortable chair you have your hand on. Bring it nearer the
stove and let's try to look at the thing sensibly," Prescott persuaded.
"I'll confess that I'd have excused your visit, if it could have been
avoided, but as you already owe Svendsen and me something, it would be
rather forcing matters for you to drive away hungry. That strikes me as
about the limit of wrong-headedness, particularly as I'm not suggesting
that we should make friends."

The elder man was possessed by a fixed idea and his prejudices were
strong, but he was, nevertheless, a judge of character, and the rancher's
manner impressed him. He took the chair.

"I believe I owe my life to you or your hired man. I find the situation
embarrassing."

"It would be intolerable, if you were not mistaken about another point,"
Prescott said calmly. "Now I want your attention. I'm not anxious for
your good opinion--I don't know that I'd take it as a gift, after the way
you have persecuted me--but I've a pity for you that softens my
resentment."

Jernyngham moved abruptly, but Prescott raised his hand.

"Let me get through! I believe you're honest; you're acting from a sense
of duty, which is why I tell you that you're tormenting yourself without
a cause. I had no hand in your son's disappearance, and it's my firm
conviction that he's alive now and wandering through British Columbia
with a mineral prospector."

"What proof have you of this?"

"None that would satisf