asts went with a crash. A quarter of an hour
later they were thrown up on the beach, and before they set out on a
long march through the bush there was very little to be seen of the
vessel.

Three or four days afterwards they reached a little wooden town, and
Wyllard, who slipped into it alone in the dusk, bought clothing for
himself and his companions, who put it on in the bush. Then they went
into the town together, and slept that night in a wooden hotel.

Their troubles were over, and, what was more, Wyllard, who pledged the
rest to secrecy, fancied that what had become of the schooner would
remain a mystery.

CHAPTER XXXI.

WYLLARD COMES HOME.

Harvest had commenced at the Range, and the clashing binders were
moving through the grain when Hawtrey sat one afternoon in Wyllard's
room at the Range. It was then about five o'clock, and every man
belonging to the homestead was toiling bare-armed and grimed with dust
among the yellow oats, but Hawtrey sat at a table gazing at the litter
of papers in front of him with a troubled face. He wore a white shirt
and store clothes, which was distinctly unusual in case of a Western
farmer at harvest time, and Edmonds, the mortgage jobber, leaned back
in a big chair quietly watching him.

The latter had, as it happened, called at a singularly inconvenient
time, and Hawtrey was anxious to get rid of him before the guests he
expected arrived. It was Sally's birthday, and since she took pleasure
in simple festivities of any kind he had arranged to celebrate it at
the Range. He was, however, sufficiently acquainted with his
companion's character to realise that it was most unlikely that he
would take his departure before he had accomplished the purpose which
had brought him there. This was to collect several thousand dollars.

It was quite clear to Hawtrey that he was in an unpleasantly tight
place. Edmonds held a bond upon his homestead, teams, and implements
as security for a short date loan, repayment of which was due, and he
was to be married to Sally in a month or so.

"Can't you wait a little?" he asked at length.

"I'm afraid not," was the uncompromising reply. "Money's tight this
fall, and things have gone against me. Besides, you could pay me off
if you wanted to."

Edmonds turned towards an open window, and glanced at the great stretch
of yellow grain that ran back across the prairie. Dusty teams and
binders with flashing wooden arms moved half-hi