Prescott of Saskatchewan Part 7

"Wandle is a bit of a rogue," said Prescott, choosing the safest topic.

"I've told you so."

"You have. For all that, he's useful and I don't mind being robbed in moderation; I'm a man who's accustomed to losing things." His half-mocking tone grew serious. "I wrote to my people, as soon as Colston left, telling them I'd determined to remain in Canada; but if it wasn't for Ellice, I think I'd quit farming."

Prescott smoked in silence for a while. Jernyngham had made a costly sacrifice, chiefly on the woman's account, and Prescott felt sorry for him.

"Perhaps I'd better get on," he said after a while.

For a few moments Jernyngham looked irresolute, and then he got up.

"I'll come with you to Sebastian. I think I'd have gone earlier, only Ellice had the horse and rig, and Wandle's using the wagon team. It's no doubt my duty to sue for peace."

They set out shortly afterward and reaching Sebastian late in the evening drove to the livery-stable, where Jernyngham called the man who took Prescott's team.

"I suppose you have my horse?" he asked.

"Sure," said the fellow, looking at him curiously. "Mrs. Jernyngham said we'd better keep him until you came in. She left a note for you with the boss; he's in the hotel."

Jernyngham crossed the street, followed by his companion, and Prescott noticed that the loungers in the bar seemed interested when they came in.

Two of them put down their gla.s.ses and turned to fix their eyes on Jernyngham, a third paused in the act of lighting his pipe and dropped the match. Then the owner of the livery-stable looked up in a hesitating manner as Jernyngham approached him.

"I believe you have a message for me," Jernyngham said abruptly.

"That's so," the man rejoined gravely. "I'll give it to you outside."

They left the bar, and when they stood under the veranda, Jernyngham tore open the envelope handed him. A moment later he firmly crumpled up the note it had held.

"When did she leave?" he asked in a harsh voice.

The liveryman regarded him sympathetically.

"By the afternoon East-bound. I'm mighty sorry, Cyril--guess you know it isn't a secret in the town."

Jernyngham's face grew darkly flushed.

"Then you can tell me whom she went with?"

"The drummer who was selling the separators. Bought tickets through to St. Paul. Told Perkins he wasn't coming back here; nothing doing on this round."

The man tactfully moved away and Jernyngham turned to Prescott, speaking rather hoa.r.s.ely.

"She's gone--that's the end of it!"

He dropped into one of the chairs scattered about and a few moments later broke into a bitter laugh.

"It would have been more flattering if she had chosen you or Wandle instead of that blasted weedy drummer. Still, there the thing is, and it has to be faced." Then he surprised his companion, for his voice and expression became suddenly normal. "Go in and get me a cigar."

He lighted it carefully when it was brought to him and leaned back in his chair.

"Jack," he said, "I've got to hold myself in hand--if I start off on the jag now, it will be a dangerous one. Have you noticed that I've been practising strict abstinence since Colston left?"

Prescott, not knowing how to regard his ironic calmness, said nothing, and Jernyngham continued:

"It's a bitter pill. I was very fond of her once, and there's not much consolation in reflecting that she'll probably scare the fellow out of his wits the first time she breaks out in one of her rages." Then his voice grew regretful. "Ellice's far from perfect, but she's much too good for him."

Remembering that it was on the woman's account his friend had remained on the prairie, Prescott made a venture:

"Since she has gone, it's a pity she didn't go a few weeks earlier."

"That doesn't count," declared Jernyngham. "She has cause to blame me as much for marrying her--one must try to be just. I thought of her when I determined to stay, but my own weaknesses played as big a part in deciding me."

He sat silent a while, and then indicated his surroundings with a contemptuous sweep of his hand--the dirty sidewalk strewn with cigar ends and banana peelings, the straggling houses with their cracked board walls and ugly square fronts, the rutted street down which drifted clouds of dust.

"Jack," he said, "I'm very sick of all this, and I can't face the lonely homestead now Ellice's gone. I must have a change and something to brace me; something that has a keener bite than drink. Think I'll take a haulage job on the new railroad, where there ought to be rough and risky work, and I'll leave this place to-night. Come across with me to Morant's, and I'll see what I can borrow on the land."

The sudden unreasoning decision was characteristic of him, but Prescott expostulated.

"You can't clear out in this eccentric fas.h.i.+on; there are a number of things to be settled first."

"I think I can," Jernyngham retorted dryly. "It's certain that I can't stay here."

He took his companion with him to call on a land-agent and mortgage-broker, and when they left the office Jernyngham had a bulky roll of bills in his pocket.

"Jack," he requested, "you'll run my place and pay Morant off after harvest; if Wandle gets his hands on it, there'll be very little left when I come back. You may have trouble with him, but you must hold out.

Charge me with all expenses and pay as much of the surplus as you think I'm ent.i.tled to into my bank when you have sold the crop. Now if you'll come into the hotel, I'll give you a written authority and get Perkins to witness it."

Prescott demurred at first, but eventually yielded because he believed his friend's interest would need looking after in his absence. After some discussion they agreed on a workable scheme, which was put down in writing and witnessed by the hotel-keeper. Then Jernyngham borrowed a saddle and sent for his horse.

"I'll pull out for the railroad now; it's cooler riding at night and there's a good moon," he said. "As I'll pa.s.s close to your place, you may as well drive so far with me."

They set off, Prescott seated on the front of his jolting wagon, Jernyngham riding as near it as the roughness of the trail permitted, with a blanket and a package of provisions strapped to his saddle. He was wearing a hat of extra-thick felt and uncommon shape which had been given him by a man who had broken his journey for the purpose of seeing the country when returning from Hong Kong by the Canadian Pacific route. Soon after they left Sebastian, a young trooper of the Northwest Police dressed in khaki uniform came trotting up in the moonlight and joined them.

"Where are you off to, Jernyngham?" he asked, glancing at the rolled up blanket. "Looks as if you meant to camp on the trail."

"I'll have to, most likely," said Jernyngham. "I'm leaving the farm to Prescott for a while and heading for Nelson's b.u.t.te on the new road."

"What are you going to do there?"

"Thought I'd pick up a horse or two at one of the ranches I'll pa.s.s and apply for a teaming job. Contractor was asking for haulage tenders; he's having trouble among the sandhills and muskegs."

"Then you'll be taking a wad of money along?"

Jernyngham a.s.sented and the trooper looked thoughtful.

"Now," he cautioned, "there's a pretty tough crowd at Nelson, and though we stopped any licenses being issued, we've had trouble over the running-in of liquor. Then you have a long ride before you through a thinly-settled country. You want to be careful about that money."

"The settlers are to be trusted."

"That's so, but we have reason to believe the rustlers are at work in the district; seem to have been going into the liquor business, and I've heard of horses missing. Now that the boys have stopped their branding other people's calves in Alberta and corralled their leaders, it looks as if the fellows were beginning the game in this part of the country."