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Bindloss, Harold, 1866-1945

"Winston of the Prairie"

"
Finally Alfreton, who was a trifle too quick for the others, got him
into his sleigh, and they swept out behind a splendid team into the
frozen stillness of the prairie. The white leagues rolled behind them,
the cold grew intense, but while Winston was for the most part silent,
and apparently preoccupied, Alfreton talked almost incessantly, and
only once looked grave. That happened when Winston asked about Colonel
Barrington.
The lad shook his head. "I scarcely think he will ever take hold
again," he said. "You will understand me better when you see him."
They stopped a while at mid-day at an outlying farm, but Winston
glanced inquiringly at Alfreton when one of the sleighs went on. The
lad smiled at him.
"Yes," he said. "He is going on to tell them we have got you."
"They would have found it out in a few more hours," said Winston.
Alfreton's eyes twinkled. "No doubt they would," he said dryly.
"Still, you see, somebody was offering two to one that Dane couldn't
bring you, and you know we're generally keen about any kind of wager!"
The explanation, which was not quite out of keeping with the customs of
the younger men at Silverdale, did not content Winston, but he said
nothing. So far his return had resembled a triumph, and while the
sincerity of the welcome had its effect on him, he shrank a little from
what he fancied might be waiting him.
The creeping darkness found them still upon the waste, and the cold
grew keener when the stars peeped out.


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