CHAPTER

     I. Rancher Winston
    II.  Lance Courthorne
   III.  Trooper Shannon’s quarrel
    IV.  In the bluff
     V. Miss Barrington comes home
    VI.  Anticipations
   VII.  Winston’s decision
  VIII.  Winston comes to Silverdale
    IX.  Courthorne disappears
     X. An armistice
    XI.  Maud Barrington’s promise
   XII.  Speed the plow
  XIII.  Mastery recognized
   XIV.  A fair advocate
    XV.  The unexpected
   XVI.  Facing the flame
  XVII.  Maud Barrington is merciless
 XVIII.  With the stream
   XIX.  Under test
    XX.  Courthorne blunders
   XXI.  The face at the window
  XXII.  Colonel Barrington is convinced
 XXIII.  Sergeant Stimson confirms his suspicions
  XXIV.  The revelation
   XXV.  Courthorne makes reparation
  XXVI.  Winston rides away
 XXVII.  Reinstatement

  Illustrations

Floundering on foot beside them he urged the team
through the powdery drifts . . . . .  Frontispiece

  Maud Barrington laughed A little

  He could see the wheat roll in slow ripples back
  into the distance

[Transcriber’s note:  The “He could see...” illustration was missing from the book used to prepare this e-text.]

CHAPTER I

RANCHER WINSTON

It was a bitter night, for the frost had bound the prairie in its iron grip, although as yet there was no snow.  Rancher Winston stood shivering in a little Canadian settlement in the great lonely land which runs north from the American frontier to Athabasca.  There was no blink of starlight in the murky sky, and out of the great waste of grass came a stinging wind that moaned about the frame houses clustering beside the trail that led south over the limited levels to the railroad and civilization.  It chilled Winston, and his furs, somewhat tattered, gave him little protection.  He strode up and down, glancing expectantly into the darkness, and then across the unpaved street, where the ruts were plowed a foot deep in the prairie sod, towards the warm red glow from the windows of the wooden hotel.  He knew that the rest of the outlying farmers and ranchers who had ridden in for their letters were sitting snug about the stove, but it was customary for all who sought shelter there to pay for their share of the six o’clock supper, and the half-dollar Winston had then in his pocket was required for other purposes.

He had also retained through all his struggles a measure of his pride, and because of it strode up and down buffeted by the blasts until a beat of horsehoofs came out of the darkness and was followed by a rattle of wheels.  It grew steadily louder, a blinking ray of brightness flickered across the frame houses, and presently dark figures were silhouetted against the light on the hotel veranda as a lurching wagon drew up beneath it.  Two dusky objects, shapeless in their furs, sprang down, and one stumbled into the post office close by with a bag, while the other man answered the questions hurled at him as he fumbled with stiffened fingers at the harness.