derer. He was left without an ally;
the organized means of justice had signally broken down; but the man
should not go unpunished.

Tormented by his thoughts, he went out in search of Gertrude.

CHAPTER XXIX

JERNYNGHAM BREAKS DOWN

Colston and his party were leaving the hotel, with Jernyngham and
Gertrude a few paces in front of them. A big lamp hung beneath the
veranda, and the light from the windows streamed out on the snow. While
Colston held the door open for his wife and Muriel to pass through a man
came hurriedly along the sidewalk and Colston started.

"Be quick!" he cried to Muriel. "It's Prescott!"

Letting the door swing to, he moved hastily forward, and then stopped,
seeing that he was too late to prevent the meeting. Jernyngham had
recognized the newcomer.

"Mr. Prescott," the old man cried, "a word with you!"

Prescott stopped with a troubled face a few yards away.

"If you insist, I'm at your service."

Colston drew nearer. Jernyngham's tone had alarmed him, and it's ominous
harshness was more marked when he resumed:

"For the last time, I ask you, where is my son?"

"I wish I knew," said Prescott quietly. "I believe he's in British
Columbia, but it's a big province and I lost trace of him there."

"It's a lie!" Jernyngham cried, hoarse with fury. "Your tricks won't
serve you; I'll have the truth!"

"Be calm, Mr. Jernyngham," Colston begged, touching his arm. "We'll have
a crowd here in a few moments. Come back into the hotel."

He was violently pushed away. Jernyngham's eyes glittered, his face was
grimly set; it was obvious that his self-control had deserted him. Seeing
that he could not be reasoned with, Colston left him alone and waited,
ready to interfere if necessary. The man, he thought, was in a dangerous
mood; the situation was liable to have alarming developments.

"Why don't you speak?" Jernyngham stormed at Prescott. "You shall not
leave the spot until we hear your confession!"

Prescott stood still, looking at him steadily, with pity in his face. He
made a striking figure in the glare of light, finely posed, with no sign
of shrinking. The others had fixed their eyes on him, and did not notice
Muriel move quietly through the shadow of the wooden pillars.

"I have nothing to confess," he said.

Jernyngham's fur coat was open and his hand dropped quickly to a pocket.
As he brought it out Colston sprang forward, a moment too late; but
Muriel was before him, her hand