Winston of the Prairie

Harold Bindloss
Winston of the Prairie, by Harold
Bindloss,

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Bindloss, Illustrated by V. Herbert Dunton
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Title: Winston of the Prairie
Author: Harold Bindloss
Release Date: January 23, 2005 [eBook #14763]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINSTON
OF THE PRAIRIE***
E-text prepared by Al Haines

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WINSTON OF THE PRAIRIE
by
HAROLD BINDLOSS
Author of Alton of Somasco, The Cattle-Baron's Daughter, The Dust of
Conflict, etc.
Illustrated by V. Herbert Dunton
Grosset & Dunlap Publishers New York
1907

[Illustration: Cover Art]
[Frontispiece: Floundering on foot beside them he urged the team
through the powdery drifts.]

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
RANCHER WINSTON II. LANCE COURTHORNE III. TROOPER
SHANNON'S QUARREL IV. IN THE BLUFF V. MISS
BARRINGTON COMES HOME VI. ANTICIPATIONS VII.
WINSTON'S DECISION VIII. WINSTON COMES TO
SILVERDALE IX. COURTHORNE DISAPPEARS X. AN
ARMISTICE XI. MAUD BARRINGTON'S PROMISE XII. SPEED

THE PLOW XIII. MASTERY RECOGNIZED XIV. A FAIR
ADVOCATE XV. THE UNEXPECTED XVI. FACING THE FLAME
XVII. MAUD BARRINGTON IS MERCILESS XVIII. WITH THE
STREAM XIX. UNDER TEST XX. COURTHORNE BLUNDERS
XXI. THE FACE AT THE WINDOW XXII. COLONEL
BARRINGTON IS CONVINCED XXIII. SERGEANT STIMSON
CONFIRMS HIS SUSPICIONS XXIV. THE REVELATION XXV.
COURTHORNE MAKES REPARATION XXVI. WINSTON RIDES
AWAY XXVII. REINSTATEMENT

ILLUSTRATIONS
FLOUNDERING ON FOOT BESIDE THEM HE URGED THE
TEAM THROUGH THE POWDERY DRIFTS . . . . . Frontispiece
MAUD BARRINGTON LAUGHED A LITTLE
HE COULD SEE THE WHEAT ROLL IN SLOW RIPPLES BACK
INTO THE DISTANCE
[Transcriber's note: The "He could see..." illustration was missing from
the book used to prepare this e-text.]
CHAPTER I
RANCHER WINSTON
It was a bitter night, for the frost had bound the prairie in its iron grip,
although as yet there was no snow. Rancher Winston stood shivering in
a little Canadian settlement in the great lonely land which runs north
from the American frontier to Athabasca. There was no blink of
starlight in the murky sky, and out of the great waste of grass came a
stinging wind that moaned about the frame houses clustering beside the
trail that led south over the limited levels to the railroad and civilization.
It chilled Winston, and his furs, somewhat tattered, gave him little
protection. He strode up and down, glancing expectantly into the

darkness, and then across the unpaved street, where the ruts were
plowed a foot deep in the prairie sod, towards the warm red glow from
the windows of the wooden hotel. He knew that the rest of the outlying
farmers and ranchers who had ridden in for their letters were sitting
snug about the stove, but it was customary for all who sought shelter
there to pay for their share of the six o'clock supper, and the half-dollar
Winston had then in his pocket was required for other purposes.
He had also retained through all his struggles a measure of his pride,
and because of it strode up and down buffeted by the blasts until a beat
of horsehoofs came out of the darkness and was followed by a rattle of
wheels. It grew steadily louder, a blinking ray of brightness flickered
across the frame houses, and presently dark figures were silhouetted
against the light on the hotel veranda as a lurching wagon drew up
beneath it. Two dusky objects, shapeless in their furs, sprang down, and
one stumbled into the post office close by with a bag, while the other
man answered the questions hurled at him as he fumbled with stiffened
fingers at the harness.
"Late? Well, you might be thankful you've got your mail at all," he said.
"We had to go round by Willow Bluff, and didn't think we'd get
through the ford. Ice an inch thick, any way, and Charley talked that
much he's not said anything since, even when the near horse put his
foot into a badger hole."
Rude banter followed this, but Winston took no part in it. Hastening
into the post office, he stood betraying his impatience by his very
impassiveness while a sallow-faced woman tossed the letters out upon
the counter. At last she took up two of them, and the man's fingers
trembled a little as he stretched out his hand when she said:
"That's all there are for you."
Winston recognized the writing on the envelopes, and it was with
difficulty he held his
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