A fortnight had passed since the affair at the settlement when Hardie
arrived at the Marston homestead toward supper-time. After the meal
was over, he accompanied his host and Edgar to the little room used for
an office.

"As I've been busy since four this morning, I don't mean to do anything
more," said George, "I suppose you don't smoke?"

"No," Hardie answered. "It's a concession I can make without much
effort to our stricter brethren. I'm inclined to believe they consider
smoking almost as bad as drink. You agree with them about the latter?"

"We try to be consistent," Edgar told him. "You see, I couldn't very
well indulge in an occasional drink when I've undertaken to make those
Sage Butte fellows abstainers. Anyhow, though you're by no means
liberal in your view, you're practical people. As soon as I landed at
Montreal, a pleasant young man, wearing a silver monogram came up to
me, and offered me introductions to people who might find me a job.
Though I didn't want one, I was grateful; and when I told him I wasn't
one of his flock, he said it didn't matter. That kind of thing makes a
good impression."

"How are you getting on at the settlement?"

George interposed.

Hardie sat silent for a few moments, and George saw that his eyes were
anxious and his face looked worn.

"Badly," he said. "I feel I can talk to you freely, and that's really