hemorrhage!" said Courthorne. "Perhaps it was born in me,
but I never had much trouble until after that night in the snow at the
river. Would you care to hear about it? We're not fond of each other,
but after the steer-drivers I've been herding with, it's a relief to
talk to a man of moderate intelligence."

"Go on," said Winston.

"Well," said Courthorne, "when the trooper was close behind me, my
horse went through the ice, but somehow I crawled out. We were almost
across the river, and it was snowing fast, while I had a fancy that I
might have saved the horse, but, as the troopers would probably have
seen a mounted man, I let him go. The stream sucked him under, and,
though you may not believe it, I felt very mean when I saw nothing but
the hole in the ice. Then, as the troopers didn't seem inclined to
cross, I went on through the snow, and, as it happened, blundered
across Jardine's old shanty. There was still a little prairie hay in
the place, and I lay in it until morning, dragging fresh armfuls around
me as I burnt it in the stove. Did you ever spend a night, wet
through, in a place that was ten to twenty under freezing?"

"Yes," said Winston dryly. "I have done it twice."

"Well," said Courthorne, "I fancy that night narrowed in my life for
me, but I made out across the prairie in the morning, and as we had a
good many friends up and down the country, one of them took care of me."

Winston sat silent a while. The story had held his attention, and the
frankness of the man who lay panting a little in his chair had its
effect on him. There was no sound from the prairie, and the house was
very still.

"Why did you kill Shannon?" he asked, at length.

"Is any one quite sure of his motives?" said Courthorne. "The lad had
done something which was difficult to forgive him, but I think I would
have let him go if he hadn't recognized me. The world is tolerably
good to the man who has no scruples, you see, and I took all it offered
me, while it did not seem fitting that a clod of a trooper without
capacity for enjoyment, or much more sensibility than the beast he
rode, should put an end to all my opportunities. Still, it was only
when he tried to warn his comrades he threw his last chance away."

Winston shivered a little at the dispassionate brutality of the speech,
and then checked the anger that came upon him.

"Fate, or my own folly, has put it out of my power to denounce you
without abandoning w