“Can’t you get us some ice?” he asked.  “The water in the tank isn’t fit to drink.”

“They haven’t any here.  You’ll have to wait until we get to the junction,” Flett told him, and drew Edgar back into the vestibule.

“We’re taking them right along to Regina,” he explained.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t see Mr. Lansing, but I’ll ride over as soon as I’m sent back.  If he’s likely to be away, he’d better send word to the station.”

“I don’t expect he’ll leave the farm during the next few weeks,” said Edgar.

Then one of the constables looked in.

“Conductor says he can’t hold up the train.”

“I’ll be off,” said Edgar, with a smile at Flett.  “This should mean promotion; it’s a fine piece of work.”

He jumped down as the train pulled out and hurried back to the store where Miss Taunton was eagerly awaiting news.  Soon afterward he left; and as he rode up to the homestead day was breaking, but he found George already at work in the stable.

“It’s lucky we don’t need your horse.  If you’re going to keep up this kind of thing, you had better buy an automobile,” he remarked.

Edgar laughed.

“I don’t feel remarkably fresh, but I’ll hold out until to-night.  There’s the fallowing to be got on with; I suppose nothing must interfere with that.  But aren’t you up a little earlier than usual?”

“I want to haul in the posts for the new fence.  Grierson has his hands full, and now that there are four of us, Jake spends so much time in cooking.”

“A reckless waste of precious minutes!” Edgar exclaimed ironically.  “If one could only get over these troublesome bodily needs, you could add hours of work to every week and make Sylvia Marston rich.  By the way, Jake’s cooking is getting awful.”

He put up his horse and busied himself with several tasks before he went in to breakfast.  When it was finished, and the others went out, he detained George.

“What did you think of that meal?” he asked.

“Well,” said George, “it might have been better.”

Edgar laughed scornfully.

“It would take some time to tell you my opinion, but I may as well point out that you’re paying a big bill for stores to Taunton, though we never get anything fit to eat.  Helen and I were talking over your account, and she wondered what we did with the things, besides giving me an idea.  It’s this—­why don’t you tell Grierson to bring out his wife?”

“I never thought of it.  She might not come; and she may not cook much better than Jake.”

“She certainly couldn’t cook worse!  I expect she would save her wages, and she would set a hired man free.  Jake can drive a team.”

“It’s a good idea,” George agreed.  “Send Grierson in.”

The man came a few minutes later.

“We get on pretty well; I suppose you are willing to stay with me?” George said to him.