Two days after the arrival of the Colstons, Gertrude Jernyngham walked down the trail from the Leslie homestead in a very bitter mood. During the last few weeks her cold nature had kindled into sudden warmth; love had most unexpectedly crept into her heart. At first she had struggled against and been ashamed of it, for its object was a man beneath her in rank and of widely different mode of thought; but by degrees the judgment she had hitherto exercised had given place to passion. After the narrow, conventional life she had led, there was a strange exhilaration and excitement in yielding to her impulses; the virility of Prescott’s character and his physical perfection stirred her. She desired him and had boldly used such charms as she possessed in his subjugation. Misled by his gentleness, she imagined him responsive, and then Muriel had appeared on the scene and the truth was plain to her when she saw his face light up at sight of the girl. She had read warm love in his eager glance.

Now Gertrude was crushed and humbled. She had cheapened herself, as she thought of it, to this rancher, only to find that he preferred another. Her punishment was severe, but she felt that it was deserved, and her ripening passion had turned to something very much like hate. Whether he had really had any hand in her brother’s death was a point she would not calmly reason 124 out, though she had a half-conscious feeling that he could not be charged with this. She wanted to think him base: to believe in his guilt would be an excuse for making him suffer.

While she walked, she cast quick glances across the waste of grass, looking for a mounted figure that did not appear, until at last she turned with a start at the sound of footsteps as Muriel came up.

“I saw you alone and thought I would join you,” Muriel said.

“It’s a relief to be by oneself now and then,” Gertrude answered with curt ungraciousness.

“One can understand that. I tried to give Harry a hint that our visit might be an intrusion, when he talked of joining your father; but he thought it would be some comfort for you to have your friends about you.”

“He was some time in putting his idea into practise.”

“We started as soon as we heard of your trouble,” said Muriel. “We were in Mexico then, and as we had moved about a good deal there was some delay in our letters. Has your father decided to stay with the Leslies?”

“Yes, for a while. It was, of course, impossible for us to remain with Mr. Prescott.”

“Why could you not?” Muriel asked with sparkling eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious, after what you heard the man admit?”

Muriel stopped, the color creeping into her face, which was filled with anger.

“It’s impossible that Mr. Prescott could have had any connection with Cyril’s disappearance. It’s wicked and cruel to suspect him!” 125

“You seem strangely convinced of his innocence,” Gertrude retorted with a somber glance at her. “We shall see by and by whether you or my father is right.”

They walked on slowly, and shortly afterward two mounted figures appeared on the plain. Gertrude watched them draw near, and then turned to her companion.

“The police; we have been expecting them,” she said. “My father sent a message to the corporal after Prescott had gone.”

“Then he will be deeply ashamed of his harshness before long,” Muriel declared as she abruptly moved away.

Gertrude let her go with a cruel smile. She thought she knew how matters stood, and if the girl were suffering, she had no pity for her. Then she waited until the police trotted by, and afterward walked slowly toward the house. On reaching it, she met Curtis coming out and he asked for a word with her.

“I understand you were the last person to see Prescott when he left this place the other night,” he said.

Gertrude admitted it, watching the man. He looked disturbed, as if he did not know what to think. Private Stanton was sitting in his saddle with an expressionless face a few yards away, but she imagined it was intended that he should hear her answers.

“Well,” Curtis resumed, “I have to ask what he said to you; anyway, so far as it bears on the business we have in hand. You know why I was sent for?”

Gertrude hesitated. She was very angry with Prescott, and there was a statement he had made which would prove damaging to him if she repeated part of it without the rest. She shrank from this course, but her rancor against the man suddenly grew too strong for her. 126

“I suppose I must answer that?”

“It’s your duty.”

“Then,” she said in a strained voice, “Mr. Prescott told me he was going away.”

“Going away!” Curtis looked astonished. “I guess you realize that this is a serious matter. Did he mention when?”

“I understood it would be very soon.” Gertrude looked at the man haughtily. “That is all I have to tell.”

She went into the house, feeling that she had said enough, and Curtis motioned to his companion and rode away. They had gone some distance when Stanton turned to his superior.

“Pretty significant. What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

“I’ll have to apply for a warrant.”

“You certainly will.”

“Well,” Curtis went on, “this thing isn’t quite so simple as it seems. To begin with, it’s my idea that Miss Jernyngham hasn’t told us all she knows; you want to remember that Prescott’s a good-looking fellow with a taking manner. I can see complications, though I can’t get the right drift of them.”

“Guess the matter will be worse mussed up if Prescott lights out. Now that Bardsley’s gone down the line, you can’t get your warrant for a day or two.............