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"It's good to see you, Jack," he said, and indicated the galloping team.
"The sensation I seem to make shows no signs of lessening."
"Haven't you heard!" Prescott exclaimed. "Don't you understand?"
"Not much," Cyril replied with a careless laugh. "When I got off the train at the settlement, everybody stared at me, and there were anxious inquiries as to where I'd been. I promised to tell them about it another time, and at the livery-stable Kevan said something about my being killed. I told him it didn't look like it; and as the boys seemed determined on hearing my adventures; I rode off smartly. When I reached your place, Svendsen looked scared, and all I could get out of him was that you were here."
Prescott made a gesture of comprehension. It was typical of Cyril that he had not taken the trouble to find out the cause of the excitement his appearance had aroused.
"Who is the lady?" Cyril asked.
"Miss Hurst. You had, perhaps, better know that she has promised to marry me."
Cyril looked at him in frank astonishment, and then laughed.
"I suppose my surprise isn't complimentary, but I wasn't prepared for your news. Jack, you're rather wonderful, but you have my best wishes, and you can tell me what brought Miss Hurst back by and by. No doubt she expects me to speak to her."
"Thanks," said Prescott dryly. "Whatever my capabilities of making a sensation are, they're a long way behind yours."
They walked toward the girl and Prescott led up his companion.
"Muriel," he said, "Cyril Jernyngham wishes to be presented to you."
She gave him her hand, and he realized that she was studying him carefully.
"I'm glad we have met," she said. "I have heard a good deal about you."
Cyril bowed with a mischievous smile.
"Nothing very much to my credit, I'm afraid. As an old friend of Jack's, it's my privilege to wish you every happiness and a.s.sure you that you have got a much better man than the one you at first took him for."
Muriel colored.
"Jack stands on his own merits."
Then she turned to Prescott.
"Does he know? Have you told him?"
"Not yet. I've news for you, Cyril. Your father and sister are here."
"What brought them?" There was astonishment in Cyril's face, but he looked more disturbed than pleased.
"They thought you dead," Muriel told him.
"Then I'm sorry if they've been anxious, but I can't understand the grounds for it. In fact, everybody I've met seems to have gone crazy, except you and Jack."
"We knew the truth," said Muriel. "There are a number of explanations you will have to make, but you had better go in."
The next moment the door opened and Gertrude appeared, as if in search of Muriel. She saw the group and broke into a startled cry.
"Cyril!"
He ran toward her and Prescott suggested that it might be advisable for him to retire, but Muriel would not agree.
"Give them a few minutes, Jack, and then we'll go in together; you are one of us now and must be acknowledged. Besides, you have a right to hear what Cyril has to say."
They walked briskly up the trail and when they turned to come back Muriel glanced at Prescott with a smile.
"Jack dear, I like him, but he said something that was true. I should never have fallen in love with the real Cyril Jernyngham."
They found the others in the large sitting-room. Cyril was talking gaily, though Prescott concluded from one remark that he had not yet given a full account of his adventures. Jernyngham sat rather limply in an easy-chair, as if the relief of finding his son safe had shaken him, but his eyes were less troubled and his manner calmer. He rose when he saw Prescott.
"Mr. Prescott," he said, "I must own before these others, who have heard me speak hardly of you, that I have done you a grievous wrong. I have no excuse to urge in asking you to forgive it. There is nothing that now seems to mitigate my folly."
"All you thought and did was very natural, sir," Prescott answered quietly. "I tried not to blame you and I feel no resentment."
"What's this?" Cyril glanced up sharply, and as he noticed the guilty faces of the others and Gertrude's strained expression, the truth dawned on him.
"Oh!" he cried, "it's preposterous! You all suspected my best friend!"
"If it's any consolation, we're very much ashamed of it," Colston replied. "And there was one exception; Muriel never shared our views."
Cyril still looked disturbed.
"Its obvious that I've given everybody a good deal of trouble, but I feel that you deserved it for your foolishness. May I ask on what grounds you suspected Jack?"
Seeing that none of them was ready to answer, Prescott interposed.
"Perhaps I had better explain; I think you ought to know."
He related the events that had followed his friend's disappearance, and when he had finished, Cyril turned to the others.
"After all, you were not so much to blame as I thought at first--you don't know Jack as I do, and things undoubtedly looked bad. Now I'll give you an account of my adventures and clear up the mystery."
"Not yet," said Prescott with a smile. "You don't seem to realize that instead of excusing people for suspicions they could hardly avoid, you're expected to make some defense for the carelessness that gave rise to them. Anyway, Curtis is ent.i.tled to an explanation, and as I sent him word, he should be here soon."
"You did right," Jernyngham broke in with a trace of asperity. "It's proper that the blundering fellow who misled us all should have his stupidity impressed on him!"
They waited, talking about indifferent matters, until Curtis arrived. At Cyril's request he made a rough diagram of the tracks he had discovered in the neighborhood of the muskeg and stated his theory of what had happened there.
"A clever piece of reasoning," Cyril remarked. "There's scarcely a flaw in it, as you'll see by my account of the affair. After saying good-by to Prescott on the night I left the settlement, I went on until I was near the muskeg and had dismounted to camp when a stranger rode up. We sat talking for a while and I foolishly told him I meant to buy some horses and apply for a railroad haulage contract, from which he no doubt concluded I was carrying some money. Soon afterward, he went off to hobble his horse, and I suppose he must have crept up behind me and knocked me out with the handle of his quirt, for I fell over with a stupefying pain in my head. This was the last thing I was clearly conscious of until the next morning, when I found myself lying close to the water, but at some distance from where I met the man. My hat had gone and my head was cut; my horse had disappeared, and I afterward discovered I had been robbed."
Cyril paused and glanced at Curtis.
"There's a point to be accounted for--how I reached the spot where I was lying, and this is my suggestion: The fellow thought he had killed me and in alarm determined to throw me into the muskeg. As I had a hazy recollection of being roughly lifted, I imagine he laid me across his saddle and after a while I must have moved or groaned. Then, having no doubt only meant to stun me, he left me on the ground. All this fits in with your theory."
"What was the man like?" Curtis asked.
Cyril described him, explaining that there was a good moon; and the corporal nodded, as if satisfied.