Wyllard’s face hardened as he mentioned the mining boss, and a curious little sparkle crept into his eyes, but after a pause he proceeded quietly:

“We did what we could for the boy. In fact, it rather broke up the prospecting trip, but he was too far gone. He hung for a week or two, and one of us brought a doctor out from the settlements, but the day before we broke camp Jake and I buried him.”

Hawtrey made a sign of comprehension. He was reasonably well acquainted with his comrade’s character, and fancied he knew who had brought the doctor out. He knew also that Wyllard had been earning his living as a railroad navvy or chopper then, and, in view of the cost of provisions brought by pack-horse into the remoter bush, the reason why he had abandoned his prospecting trip after spending a week or two taking care of the sick lad was clear enough.

“You never learned his name?” Hawtrey asked.

“I didn’t,” answered Wyllard. “I went back to the mine, but several things suggested that the name upon the pay-roll wasn’t his real one. He began a broken message the night he died, but the hemorrhage cut him off in the middle of it. The wish that I should tell his people somehow was in his eyes.”

Wyllard broke off for a moment with the deprecatory gesture, which in connection with the story was very expressive.

“I have never done it, but how could I? All I know is that he was a delicately brought up young Englishman, and the only clew I have is a watch with a London maker’s name on it and a girl’s photograph. I’ve a very curious notion that I shall meet that girl some day.”

Hawtrey, who made no comment, lay still for a minute or two, but his face suggested that he was considering something.

“Harry,” he said presently, “I shall not be fit for a journey for quite a while yet, and if I went over to England I couldn’t get the plowing done and the crop in; which, if I’m going to be married, is absolutely necessary.”

There was no doubt about the truth of the statement, for the small Western farmer has very seldom a balance in hand, and for that matter, is not infrequently in debt to the nearest storekeeper. He must, as a rule, secure a harvest or abandon his holding, since as soon as the crop is thrashed the bills pour in. Wyllard made a sign of assent.