ood deal."

He turned his head, dreading her curious eyes. His last evening in her
company was proving more trying than he had expected; though usually
tolerant and good-humored, the strain made him bitter. To-morrow he must
put this girl out of his mind. After all, it was to Cyril Jernyngham,
rake and wastrel, but a man of her own station, that she had been
gracious and charming; had she known he was Jack Prescott, she would, no
doubt, have treated him very differently; but in this supposition he did
her wrong.

Puzzled by his lack of responsiveness and with wounded pride, she stopped
and looked out toward the northwest across the prairie. Steeped in strong
coloring, it seemed to run back into immeasurable distance, though a
wonderful blaze of crimson marked its rim. The faint, cool air that
flowed across it was charged with a curious exhilarating quality; there
was a subtle fragrance of herbs in the grass.

"It's getting late," she said; "I must go in. This is the last sunset I
shall watch on the prairie, and in several ways I'm sorry. You have made
our stay here very pleasant."

CHAPTER V

THE MYSTERY OF THE MUSKEG

Colston and his party had been gone a fortnight when Prescott called at
the Jernyngham homestead one afternoon and found its owner sitting
moodily in the kitchen, which presented a chaotic appearance. Unwashed
plates and dishes were scattered about, the wood-box was overturned and
poplar billets strewed the floor, there was no fire in the rusty stove,
and the fragments of a heavy crock lay against the wall. The strong
sunlight that streamed in emphasized the disorder of the room.

"I was passing and thought I'd come in," Prescott explained. "Where's
Mrs. Jernyngham? The look of the place gives one the idea that she's not
at home."

"It's never remarkably tidy." Jernyngham broke into a rueful smile. "I
believe she started for the settlement when I was at work in the summer
fallow this morning. The fact that the horse and buggy are missing points
to it."

"But don't you know whether she has gone or not?"

"I don't," said Jernyngham. "She didn't acquaint me with her intentions.
As I see she has taken some things along, it looks as if she meant to
visit Mrs. Harvey at the store. They're friends now and then."

His manner was suggestive, though he looked more resigned than disturbed,
and Prescott, glancing at the shattered crock, ventured a question which
he feared was not quite judicious