Part 53 (2/2)

”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.

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