ment,
which is often a day's ride away; and they are not, as a rule, men of
culture or pleasing manners. For the strong in mind and body, it is
nevertheless a healthful life; but Benson was not of sufficiently tough
fiber.

"Now, see here," said Harding. "I'm out for money, and this is a
business trip; but Blake wants to take you, and I'm agreeable. If you
can stand for two or three months' hard work in the open, and very
plain living, you'll feel yourself a match for Clarke when you get
back. Though there's no reason why you should tell a stranger like
myself how you stand, if you'd rather not, I know something of business
and might see a way out of your difficulties."

Benson hesitated. He would have resented an attempt to use his
troubles as a text for improving remarks, for he fully appreciated his
failings. What he desired was a means for escaping their consequences;
and the American seemed to offer it. He began an explanation and, with
the help of a few leading questions, made his financial position fairly
clear.

"Well," said Harding, "Clarke has certainly got a tight hold on you;
but I guess it's possible to shake him on. As things stand, however,
it seems to me he has something to gain by your death."

"He couldn't count on that--to do the fellow justice, he'd hardly go so
far; but there's some truth in what you say."

Benson looked disturbed and irresolute, but after a few moments he
abruptly threw his cigar away and leaned forward with a decided air.

"If you'll have me, I'll go with you."

"You're wise," Harding said quietly.

Shortly afterward Benson left them, and Harding turned to Blake.

"Now you had better go along and see if you can learn anything from
Clarke about our road. He's a rogue, but that's no reason we shouldn't
make him useful. If he can help us, pay him. But be careful what you
say. Remember that he was watching you at the hotel in Montreal, and
I've a suspicion that he was standing in the shadow near the stairs
when Benson talked last night."

Borrowing a saddle, Blake rode over to Clarke's homestead, which had a
well-kept, prosperous look. He found its owner in a small room
furnished as an office. Files of papers and a large map of the Western
Provinces hung on one wall; and Clarke was seated at a handsome
American desk. He wore old overalls, and the soil on his boots
suggested that he had been engaged in fall plowing.

As Blake entered, Clarke looked up and t