n extent in his power.

It was a decidedly comforting reflection, that, for a prisoner, and he
tucked himself into the blankets of his bunk and went to sleep with his
mind eased.

The cook's shrill morning call woke him and without rising he listened
to the bustle of men preparing for the day's work. He heard the
continuous rattle of tin dishes, the mellow rasp of axes on turning
grindstones, the squeak of footsteps departing over the crisp snow and
the squealing of the runners of sleds. And when all were gone, there was
as yet only the faintest glimmering of the dawn against the window of
the wangan camp.

The engineer was up and dressed when the key rattled in the door.
Colonel Ward came first, "sipping" his tongue against his teeth in a
manner that showed he had just finished breakfast. The morning light
showed redly on his face as he came ill, and in that glow he seemed to
be in more gracious spirit than on the evening before.

The man who had previously accompanied him, the man of the hatchet
visage, followed at his heels bearing several tin dishes that contained
breakfast.

"There ain't no intention here to starve ye nor use ye in any ways
contrary to gen'ral regulations--that is, so fur as we can help,"
began the colonel. "Of course, if you were a little more reasonable and
bus'ness-like we could use you better. Hackett, set down the breakfast!
Fall to, young man, and eat hearty jest as tho ye relished your
vittles."

It was evident that Colonel Ward was making desperate attempts to appear
cordial.

He even endeavored to force a smile but it was hardly more than a
ridging of his cheek muscles under his bristly beard. Parker imagined
that he could hear the skin crackling at this unaccustomed facial twist.
The struggle to appear cheerful was so grim that the engineer dreaded
his antagonist in this new guise more than he did when he was brutally
open in his warfare.

"Sit down, Hackett," commanded the colonel. "Hackett's a friend o'
mine--that is, in so far as I have friends, and he might as well be here
to listen to what I have to say to you and what you have to say to me.
There's northin' like a witness of transactions, Mr. Parker. Now you and
me ain't got together right up to now. I'm allus pretty much fussed up
by my bus'ness and kept cross-grained all the time by havin' to handle
so many blasted fool woodsmen, and the man that meets me for the
first time might natch-rally think I was uglier'n a Injun