Part 42 (2/2)

”No; I drove in alone.”

She saw his surprise, which suggested that her task might prove more difficult than she had imagined.

”Well,” he said, ”the trail's pretty good and there's a moon to-night; but didn't you hesitate about getting supper here by yourself?”

”Not very much; there was really no reason why I should hesitate.”

”That's true. But you had your doubts?”

”They were foolish,” Muriel told him. ”Why are you so curious?”

”I'm interested.” He indicated the room and its occupants. ”These people, their manners, and surroundings are typical of the New West.”

”Do you feel that you ought to defend them?”

”Oh, no! They don't need it. They have their faults and their virtues, and neither are mean. They've the makings of a big nation and they're doing great work to-day. However, you had certainly no cause for uneasiness; there's not a man in the place who would have shown you the least disrespect.”

”After all,” Muriel contended, ”they're not your people. You came from Montreal; your ideas and habits are more like ours than theirs.”

”They're mine by adoption; I've thrown in my lot with them.” He fixed his eyes on her. ”Do you know the secret of making colonization a success? In a way, it's a hard truth, but it's this--there must be no looking back.

The old ties must be cut loose once for all; a man must think of the land in which he prospers as his home; it's not a square deal to run back with the money he has made in it. He must grow up with the rising nation he becomes a member of.”

”Yes,” Muriel conceded slowly; ”I think that is so. But it's harder for a woman.”

”And yet have you seen any one who looked unhappy?”

”No,” she admitted with thoughtful candor. ”The few I have got to know seem to have an importance that perhaps is not very common at home. For instance, I heard Leslie giving his wife his reasons for thinking of buying some Hereford cattle, and his respect for her opinion impressed me.”

Prescott smiled.

”If I were going to sell those beasts, I'd rather make the deal with her husband.”

Then he changed the subject and they talked in a lighter vein until the room began to empty and a waitress came to collect the plates.

”Don't they close this place as soon as supper is finished?” Muriel asked, trying to overcome her diffidence. ”Where can I have a word or two with you? I was afraid that somebody might overhear us here.”

”The parlor would be best,” he answered in some surprise. ”The boys prefer the downstairs room and the bar. I'll tell the man about my horse, and then I'll be there.”

Muriel found the few minutes she had to wait trying, but she gathered her courage when he joined her.

”Sit down,” she said with an air of decision. ”I'd better begin at once, and the thing is serious. What have you done to clear yourself, since I last saw you?”

His searching glance filled her with misgivings; without being subtle, he was by no means dull, and he must be curious about her motive in asking him. To her relief, however, he confined himself to the point she had raised.

”Nothing. I don't see what can be done.”

”Then are you content to remain suspected?”

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