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Updated: June 5, 2025
"'Is it anything to you? says he. "'It's everything, says I. 'And if ye will not tell me I'll tear it out of ye. "Courthorne laughs a little, but I saw the divil in his eyes. 'I don't think you're quite man enough, says he, sitting very quiet on the big black horse.
Had she been asked a few months earlier whether the man who had, as Courthorne had done, cast away his honor and wallowed in the mire, could come forth again and purge himself from the stain, her answer would have been coldly skeptical, but now with the old familiar miracle and what it symbolized before her eyes, the thing looked less improbable.
He had also during the grim cares of the lean years known the fierce longing for one deep draught of the wine of pleasure, whatever it afterwards cost him. "It was that which induced you to look for a little relaxation at the settlement at my expense," he said. "A trifle paltry, wasn't it?" Courthorne laughed. "It seems you don't know me yet.
"After all, it's the gambler first," he said. "A little rough on the straight man as usual." Then he sat down beside the stove in the bare general room and thoughtfully smoked a cigar. Ailly was going to England, Winston, to save his neck, had gone as Courthorne to Silverdale, and in another day or two the latter would have disappeared.
It is conceivable that operations on the Winnipeg market are less laborious as well as more profitable, but I have had no opportunity or trying them." Miss Barrington looked at him steadily, and Winston felt the blood surge to his forehead as he remembered having heard of a certain venture made by Courthorne which brought discredit on one or two men connected with the affairs of a grain elevator.
He said nothing further, and the lawyer sat down to write Colonel Barrington. "Mr. Courthorne proves obdurate," he said. "He is, however, by no means the type of man I expected to find, and I venture to surmise that you will eventually discover him to be a less undesirable addition to Silverdale than you are at present inclined to fancy."
Winston closed one hand a trifle, and slowly straightened himself, feeling that there was need of all his self-control, for he saw his companion glance at him, and then almost too steadily at Lance Courthorne.
In another minute four maddened beasts were careering across the prairie with portions of their trappings banging about them, while one man who was badly kicked sat down gray in face and gasping, and the fire rolled up to the ridge of loam, checked, and then sprang across it here and there. "I'll take one of those lad's places," said Dane. "That fellow can't hold the breaker straight, Courthorne."
It was about this time when Winston stood shivering a little with the bridle of a big black horse in his hand just outside the door of his homestead. A valise and two thick blankets were strapped to the saddle, and he had donned the fur cap and coat Courthorne usually wore. Courthorne himself stood close by smiling at him sardonically.
"My sense of humor had never much chance of developing," said Winston grimly. "What is the matter with you?" "Pulmonary hemorrhage!" said Courthorne. "Perhaps it was born in me, but I never had much trouble until after that night in the snow at the river. Would you care to hear about it?
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