Had the unforeseen not happened, Winston would have held out to the end of the struggle, but now he had no regret that this was out of the question.

Fate had been too strong for him as farmer Winston, but it might deal more kindly with him as the outlaw Courthorne.

He could also make a quick decision, and when the officer returned to say that supper was ready, he rose with a smile.
They sat down to a meal that was barbaric in its simplicity and abundance, for men live and eat in Homeric fashion in the Northwest, and when the green tea was finished and the officer pushed the whisky across, his guest laughed as he filled his glass.
"Here's better fortune to farmer Winston!" he said.
The officer stared at him.

"No, sir," he said.

"If the old folks taught me right, Winston's in -- --" A curious smile flickered in the farmer's eyes.