“He would never accept assistance,” said the lad thoughtfully.  “That is, unless the man who offered it was, or became by marriage, one of the dynasty.”

“Of course,” said Dane.  “That’s why I’m inclined to take a fatherly interest in Miss Barrington’s affair.  It’s a misfortune we’ve heard nothing very reassuring about Courthorne.”

CHAPTER VII

WINSTON’S DECISION

Farmer Winston crossed the frontier without molestation and spent one night in a little wooden town, where several people he did not speak to apparently recognized him.  Then he pushed on southwards, and passed a week in the especially desolate settlement he had been directed to.  A few dilapidated frame houses rose out of the white wilderness beside the broad beaten trail, and, for here the prairie rolled south in long rises like the waves of a frozen sea, a low wooden building on the crest of one cut the skyline a league away.  It served as outpost for a squadron of United States cavalry, and the troopers daily maligned the Government which had sent them into that desolation on police duty.

There was nothing else visible but a few dusky groves of willows and the dazzling snow.  The ramshackle wooden hotel was rather more than usually badly-kept and comfortless, and Winston, who had managed to conciliate his host, felt relieved one afternoon when the latter flung down the cards disgustedly.

“I guess I’ve had enough,” he said.  “Playing for stakes of this kind isn’t good enough for you!”

Winston laughed a little to hide his resentment, as he said, “I don’t quite understand.”

“Pshaw!” said the American, with a contemptuous gesture.  “Three times out of four I’ve spoiled your hand, and if I didn’t know that black horse I’d take you for some blamed Canadian rancher.  You didn’t handle the pictures that way when you stripped the boys to the hide at Regent, Mr. Courthorne.”

“Regent?” said Winston.

The hotel-keeper laughed.  “Oh, yes,” he said.  “I wouldn’t go back there too soon, any way.  The boys don’t seem quite contented, and I don’t figure they would be very nice to you.  Well, now, I’ve no use for fooling with a man who’s too proud to take my dollars, and I’ve a pair of horses just stuffed with wickedness in the stable.  There’s not much you don’t know about a beast, any way, and you can take them out a league or two if you feel like it.”

Winston, who had grown very tired of his host, was glad of any distraction, especially as he surmised that while the man had never seen Courthorne, he knew rather more than he did himself about his doings.  Accordingly, he got into the sleigh that was brought out by and by, and enjoyed the struggle with the half-tamed team, which stood with ears laid back, prepared for conflict.  Oats had been very plentiful, and prices low that season.  Winston, who knew at