“I’ll be glad,” responded the other.  “These nights are pretty cold, and my blanket’s thin.”

They drove on, and after a while the stranger glanced at the team hitched behind the vehicle.

“Pretty good beasts,” he remarked.  “That mare’s a daisy.  Ought to be worth a pile.”

“She cost it,” Grant told him.  “I’ve just bought her at a sale.”

“I heard the boys talking about it when I was getting dinner at the settlement,” said the stranger carelessly.  “Called the fellow whose place was sold up Langside, I think.  There’s nothing much wrong with the team you’re driving.”

Grant nodded; they were valuable animals, for he was fond of good horses.  He was well satisfied with his new purchases and knew that Langside had bought the mare after a profitable haulage contract during the building of a new railroad.  His companion’s flattering opinion made him feel rather amiable toward him.

It was getting near dusk when they entered a strip of broken country, where the ground was sandy and lolled in low ridges and steep hillocks.  Here and there small pines on the higher summits stood out black against the glaring crimson light; birches and poplars straggled up some of the slopes; and the trail, which wound through the hollows, was loose and heavy.  The moist sand clogged the wheels and the team plodded through it laboriously, until they came to a spot where the melted snow running into a depression had formed a shallow lake.  This had dried up, but the soil was very soft and marshy.  Grant pulled up and glanced dubiously at the deep ruts cut in the road.

“There’s a way round through the sand and scrub, but it’s mighty rough and I’m not sure we could get through it in the dark,” he said.

“S’pose you double-yoke and drive straight ahead,” suggested the other.  “I see you have some harness in the wagon.”

Grant considered.  The harness, which had been thrown in with his purchase, was old and short of one or two pieces; it would take time and some contriving to hitch on the second team, and the light was failing rapidly.  When he had crossed the soft place, there would still be some rough ground to traverse before he reached the smoother trail by which George would be riding.

“It might be as quick to go round,” he replied.

“No, sir,” said his companion, firmly.  “There’s a blamed steep bit up the big sandhill.”

Suspicion flashed on Grant; the man had led him to believe he was a stranger to the locality, and it was significant that he should insist upon their stopping and harnessing the second team.

“That’s so,” he returned.  “Guess you had better get down and see if it’s very soft ahead.”