“I am inclined to agree with you.”
Brief leavetakings followed. Miss Carrington was cordial, but, and it may have been exaggeration of sentiment, I dare not look at Grace with the shadow of such a charge hanging over me. Neither, I think, did the Colonel shake hands with me; and when the sleigh sped hissing down the beaten trail Harry said:
“Ralph, you almost make one angry. Of course, she is too high for you; but there was no reason you should look like a convicted felon when we took the trouble to demonstrate your innocence. Confusion to Thomas Fletcher and all his works, I say! Why should that invertebrate wastrel have turned up to plague us so?”
Some time had elapsed before we got the horses harnessed, because they objected strenuously, and several branching trails crossed the prairie, so we spent a much longer time than I liked in driving through the bitter cold before we found my late accuser sitting under a copse of willows, and apparently awaiting his death. As the settlers say 102 when it freezes on the prairie, you can’t fool with that kind of cold. Harry for some reason swore profanely.
“Get in, and we’ll take you straight to Willow Lake,” he said, lifting the unfortunate man, who already had almost lost the use of his limbs, and who answered with his teeth chattering:
“You two are very good; I couldn’t drag myself further; walked there from Elktail to-day, and I felt main drowsy. What brought thee after me? From one of thy sort I never expected it.”
“I don’t care what you expected,” said Harry briefly, “so you needn’t trouble to tell me. Get into these furs here before you freeze to death; another half-hour would have made an end of you.”
The team already had traveled far that day, but they responded gallantly to Harry’s encouragement. The cold bit deep, however, and I could scarcely move a limb when, toward midnight, with a hiss of runners and a jingle of bells, we came into sight of Fletcher’s shanty by Willow Lake. As luck would have it a light still shone in the window, and he opened the door when Harry and I made shift to draw some wrappings over the team. It grieved me to leave the poor beasts waiting there, for I found it difficult even to speak.
“It’s Mr. Lorimer, Minnie,” Fletcher shouted; and before I could intervene a woman’s shape filled the lighted door, while Harry said softly, “Confound it! I hoped to have got out before the play commenced.”
“We have brought you a visitor, Minnie,” I said. “You must not be surprised. There’s nothing too strange to happen in a new country. Harry, help me with him;” and between us we half carried Lee inside, for all the strength had gone out of him. The hot room reeled about me, and there was a drumming in my head, but with an 103 effort, I said, “It’s your father, Minnie. You forgot the letter, and he came over to Carrington in search of me.”