.and one of the farms in the Silverdale colony he established in Western Canada to Lance Courthorne." He laid down the paper and sat rigidly still for a minute or two, while his companion glanced at him curiously.
"Then," said the latter, "it's you!" "It is," said Courthorne dryly.

"I'm much obliged to you for showing me the thing, but I'd be still more obliged if you wouldn't worry me with any questions just now." His companion made a little gesture of comprehension as he moved away, and Courthorne leaned back in his chair with his eyes half-closed.

He could now understand his whisky-smuggling comrade's letter, for it was evident that Winston was going to Silverdale.

Indeed, Courthorne could not see what other course was open to the rancher, if he wished to preserve his safety.

Still, Courthorne was aware that farming, as carried on at Silverdale, was singularly unprofitable, and he had a somewhat curious confidence in the honesty of the man he had deceived.
Winston, he decided, no doubt believed that he was drowned the night Trooper Shannon died, and had been traced as Courthorne by some Winnipeg lawyer acting for the executors.
Then Clouston came in to announce that supper was ready, and Courthorne took his place among the rest.