for instance, with the Protestant succession?”
“It isn’t very plain,” said Prescott. “Still, everybody knows what kind of fool you are.”
“I live,” declared Jernyngham. “You steady, industrious fellows grow. The row began at the ball-game—disputed base, I think—and our lot had got badly whipped at the first round when I stood on the veranda and sang them, ‘No Surrender.’ That was enough for the Ulster boys, and three or four of them go a long way in this kind of scrimmage.”
Prescott had no sympathy with Jernyngham’s vagaries, but one could not be angry with him: the man was irresponsible. In a few moments, however, Jernyngham’s face grew graver.
“Jack,” he resumed, “I’m in a hole. Never troubled to ask for my letters until late in the afternoon, and now I don’t know what to do unless you can help me.”
“You had better tell me what the trouble is.”
“To make you understand, I’ll have to go back some time. Everybody round this place knows what I am now, but I believe I was rather a promising youngster before I left the old country, a bit of a rebel though, and inclined to kick against the ultra-conventional. In fact, I think honesty was my ruin, Jack; I kicked openly.”
“Is there any other way? I can’t see that there’s much use in kicking unless the opposition feels it.”
“Don’t interrupt,” scowled Jernyngham. “This is rather deep for you, but I’ll try to explain. If you want to get on in the old country, you must conform to the standard; though you can do what you like at times and places where people of your proper circle aren’t supposed to see you. I didn’t recognize the benefits of the system then—and I suffered for it.”
He paused with a curious, half-tender look in his face.
“There was a girl, Jack, good as they’re made, I still believe, though not in our station. Well, I meant to marry her—thought I was strong enough to defy the system—and she, not knowing what manner of life I was meant for, was fond of me.”
“What manner of life were you meant for?”
Jernyngham laughed harshly.
“The Bar, for a beginning; I’d got my degree. The House later—there was strong family influence—to assist in propagating the Imperial idea. Strikes one as amusing, Jack.”
Prescott thought his companion would not have spoken so freely had he been wholly sober, but he had long noticed the purity of the man’s intonation and the refinement that occasionally showed in his manners.
“You’re making quite a tale of it,” he said.
“Well,” resumed Jernyngham, “I didn’t know what I was up against; the system broke me. When the stress came, I hadn’t nerve enough to hold out, and for that I’ve been punished. My sister—she meant well—got hold of the girl, persuaded her to give me up—for my sake, Jack. Wouldn’t see me, sent back my letters, and I came to Canada, beaten.”
He paused.
“There’s a reason why you must try to realize my father and sister. He’s unflinchingly upright, conventional to a degree; Gertrude’s a feebler copy, as just, but perhaps not quite so hard. Well, I’ve never written to either, but I’ve heard from friends and the conclusion seems to be that as I’ve never asked for money I must have reformed. There’s a desire for a reconciliation; my father’s getting old, and I believe, in their reserved way, they were fond of me. Don’t be impatient; I’m coming to the point at last. I’d a letter to-day from Colston—though the man’s a relative, I haven’t seen him since I left school. He and his wife are passing through on their way to British Columbia and the idea seems to be that he should see me and report.”
Prescott made a sign of understanding. Jernyngham, stamped with dissipation and injured in a brawl, and his small homestead where everything was in disorder and out of repair, were hardly likely to create a favorable impression on his English relatives. Besides, there was Mrs. Jernyngham. The effect of her appearance and conversation might be disastrous.
“Now,” continued Jernyngham, “you see how I’m fixed. I haven’t much to thank my people for, but I want to spare them a shock. If it would make things easier for them, I don’t mind their thinking better of me than I deserve.”
His companion pondered this. It was crudely put, but it showed a rather fine consideration, Prescott thought, for the people who were in part responsible for the man’s downfall; perhaps, too, a certain sense of shame and contrition. Jernyngham’s desire could not be found fault with.
“What are you going to do about it?” he asked.
“Nothing,” said Jernyngham with a reckless laugh. “You’ll do all that’s needed; I mean to leave my friends to you. Strikes me as a brilliant idea, though not exactly novel; made a number of excellent comedies. Did you ever see ‘Charley’s Aunt’?”
Prescott frowned.
“I don’t deal.”
“Think! You’re not unlike me and we’re about the same age; Colston, hasn’t seen me for fourteen years; his wife never!”
“No,” objected Prescott. “It can’t be done!”
“It’s hardly good form to remind you of it, Jack, but there was a time when we took a grading contract on the line and you got into trouble close in front of the ballast train.”
Prescott’s determined expression changed.
“Yes,” he conceded; “it gives you a pull on me—I can’t go back on that.” He spread out his hands. “Well, if you insist.”
“For the old man’s sake,” said Jernyngham. “I want you to take the Colstons out to your place and entertain them for a day or two; they won’t stay long. They’re coming in by the West-bound this evening.”
“Then,” exclaimed Prescott, “they’ll be here in half an hour, if the train’s on time! If there are any points you can give me about your family history, you had better be quick!”
“In the first place, I was rather a wild youngster, with an original turn of mind and was supposed to be a bit of a rake, though that wasn’t correct—my eccentricities were harmless then. Your word ‘maverick’ describes me pretty well: I didn’t belong to the herd; I wouldn’t be rounded up with the others and let them put the brand on. That’s no doubt why they credited me with vices I didn’t possess.” Jernyngham laughed. “Still, you mustn’t overdo the thing; you want delicately to convey the idea that you’re now reformed. The part requires some skill; it’s a pity you’re not smarter. Jack. But let me think——”
He went into a few details about his family, and then Prescott left him and, after giving an order to have his team ready, proceeded to the station. It was getting dark, but the western sky was still a sheet of wonderful pale green, against which the tall elevators stood out black and sharp. The head-lamp of a freight locomotive flooded track and station with a dazzling electric glare, the rails that ran straight and level across the waste gleaming far back in the silvery radiance. This helped Prescott to overcome his repugnance to his task, as he remembered another summer night when he had attempted to hurry his team across the track before a ballast train came up. Startled by the blaze of the head-lamp and the scream of the whistle, one of the horses plunged and kicked; a wheel of the wagon, sinking in the loose ballast, skidded against a tie; and Prescott stood between the rails, struggling to extricate the beasts, while the great locomotive rushed down on them. There was a vein of stubborn tenacity in him and it looked as if he and the horses would perish together when Jernyngham came running to the rescue. How they escaped neither of them could afterward remember, but a moment later they stood beside the track while the train went banging by, covering them with dust and fragments of gravel. Prescott admitted that he owed Jernyngham something for that.
Nevertheless there was no doubt