g lamps. "If he had waited a few
minutes longer, you would have known," he said. "He is Lance
Courthorne."

This time the murmurs implied incredulity, but the man who stood
swaying a little with his hand on the chair, and a smile in his
half-closed eyes, made an ironical inclination.

"It's evident you don't believe it or wish to. Still, it's true," he
said.

One of the men nearest him rose and quietly thrust him into the chair.

"Sit down in the meanwhile," he said dryly. "By and by, Colonel
Barrington will talk to you."

Barrington thanked him with a gesture, and glanced at the rest. "One
would have preferred to carry out this inquiry more privately," he
said, very slowly, but with hoarse distinctness. "Still, you have
already heard so much."

Dane nodded. "I fancy you are right, sir. Because we have known and
respected the man who has, at least, done a good deal for us, it would
be better that we should hear the rest."

Barrington made a little gesture of agreement, and once more fixed his
eyes on Winston. "Then will you tell us who you are?"

"A struggling prairie farmer," said Winston quietly. "The son of an
English country doctor who died in penury, and one who from your point
of view could never have been entitled to more than courteous
toleration from any of you."

He stopped, but, for the astonishment was passing, there was negation
in the murmurs which followed, while somebody said, "Go on!"

Dane stood up. "I fancy our comrade is mistaken," he said. "Whatever
he may have been, we recognize our debt to him. Still, I think he owes
us a more complete explanation."

Then Maud Barrington, sitting where all could see her, signed
imperiously to Alfreton, who was on his feet next moment, with
Macdonald and more of the men following him.

"I," he said, with a little ring in his voice and a flush in his young
face, "owe him everything, and I'm not the only one. This, it seems to
me, is the time to acknowledge it."

Barrington checked him with a gesture. "Sit down, all of you. Painful
and embarrassing as it is, now we have gone so far, this affair must be
elucidated. It would be better if you told us more."

Winston drew back a chair, and when Courthorne moved, the man who sat
next to him laid a grasp on his arm. "You will oblige me by not making
any remarks just now," he said dryly. "When Colonel Barrington wants
to hear anything from you he'll ask you."

"There is little more," s