It was the middle of October, and there was a crisp tang in the air night and morning, before we again hit the trail for Fourteen and Twenty-two. During all this time we had had no word from our homes, as there was no one to carry mail in or out, and it was with anxious and eager hearts that we hurried Buck and Bright along the homeward winding trail. On the second day, as we were bowling along at the two-and-a-half mile an hour clip which Buck and Bright considered the limit of furious driving Jack drew my attention to a speck on the horizon ahead of us. It grew rapidly, and although there was no mirage this time to bring our visitor down from heaven, we soon were able to discern the scarlet uniform of the Mounted Police. It came along at the smart trot to which the police horse is educated, and in half an hour Harold Brook drew up beside us. "Hello, Lane and Hall!" the policeman greeted us. "Getting back from your harvest excursion?" So it was evident he knew we had been away, and why. But Jack, whether he thought of this or not, answered him cordially. "We're on the home stretch," he admitted, "and old Fourteen and Twenty-two will look pretty good to us, after cook-cars and cabooses." The lightest kind of a smile flickered about Brook's lips. "And so it should," he agreed, "with two fine girls such as adorn your respective homesteads. I was in the district last night." "Were the girls well?" I forced myself to say, partly because I felt my silence was beginning to shout, and partly because of a real anxiety about them. "I believe so. I didn't see them, myself; came in by the south and landed first with your neighbour, Spoof. Capital chap; I stayed over night with him, and smoked up nearly all of his English tobacco. At breakfast I finished his last jar of marmalade, so if Spoof is flying a flag of distress when you reach home you will know the cause of it. Imagine an Englishman without marmalade--breakfast without marmalade! My dear fellow, I'm English myself, and I--I assure you it isn't done." "But the girls?----" I persisted. "Oh, yes. Spoof has been keeping a neighbourly eye on them. I meant to call on you, of course, but when Spoof told me you were away I stayed with him. He assured me that everyone is fit at Fourteen and Twenty-two." This was good news, and a weight off our minds. Besides, it was evidence that in the twinges of my jealousy toward Brook I fell somewhat short of doing him justice. Brook was a decent fellow, and was playing the game. "Just a suggestion," said the policeman, after a moment. "This is your first autumn on the prairies, and you can't be too careful about fire. These warm days and frosty nights are the most dangerous time of the year. I found Spoof had no fire guards, so I showed him how to make them, and I took the liberty of hinting that he go over to Fourteen and Twenty-two and see that the buildings are properly protected."