“No,” said Featherstone, with a grateful look.  “I want you to go to England and stay with my people.  I haven’t said much about them, but you’ll find they will do their best to make things pleasant.  Anyhow, it’s time you knew that I left home in serious trouble and meant to stop away until I thought the cause of it forgotten.  Well, not long ago, I heard that the man I’d injured was dead, but had sent me word that as I had, no doubt, paid for my fault in this country, I’d nothing more to fear.  Then Daly got upon my track.”

Foster nodded sympathetically.  “How much does he know?”

“Enough to be dangerous, but I don’t know how he learned it and don’t mean to keep on buying him off.  Now I want you to go home and tell my people what we’re doing; if you can give them the impression that I’ve, so to speak, made good in Canada, so much the better.  This is not entirely for my sake, but because it might be a relief to them.  You see, they’ve had to suffer something on my account and felt my disgrace, but, although I deserved it, they wouldn’t give me up.”

“Very well,” said Foster, “I’ll do as you wish.”

He knocked out and re-filled his pipe, as an excuse for saying nothing more, because he was somewhat moved.  He guessed that Featherstone had not found it easy to take him into his confidence, and felt that he had atoned for his errors in the past.  Still, there was a point he was doubtful about.  His comrade had a well-bred air, and Foster imagined that his people were rich and fastidious.

“I’m not sure your relatives will enjoy my visit,” he resumed after a time.  “My father and mother died when I was young, and I was sent to a second-rate school and kept there by an uncle who wanted to get rid of me.  Then I’d a year or two in a merchant’s office and cheap lodgings, and when I’d had enough of both came out to Canada with about five pounds.  You know how I’ve lived here.”

Featherstone gave him an amused glance.  “You needn’t let that trouble you.  It’s curious, but the bush seems to bring out the best that’s in a man.  I can’t see why getting wet and half frozen, working fourteen hours a day, and often going without your dinner, should have a refining influence, but it has.  Besides, I’m inclined to think you have learned more in the Northwest than they could have taught you at an English university.  Anyhow, you’ll find my people aren’t hard to please.”

“When are you going to California?” Foster, who felt half embarrassed, asked.

“Let’s fix Thursday next, and I’ll start with you.”

“But I’m going east, and your way’s by Vancouver.”

“Just so,” said Featherstone dryly.  “For all that, I think I’ll start east, and then get on to a west-bound train at a station down the line.  The folks at the Crossing know I’m going home, and I don’t want to put Daly on my track.”  He smoked in silence for a few moments, and then added:  “I wonder whether Austin helped the fellow to get after me?”