The Benson signal., 1917-05-26
CHAPTER xI-Continued.

Again the train was delayed and
held up for half an hour just as it
reached the Mississippi river. He left
his seat in the dining car, his dinner
uneaten on the table, to go out and in
Spect the bridge during the half-hour
that the 'limited" lay idle. The next
day some enormous irrigation works
In western Nebraska SO engrossed his
attention and aroused his interest that
In spite of himself he stopped over
between trains to see them. And these
actions were typical.
Yet after every one of these excur-
siOnS back into his own field, his con-
science smote him. Was he never to
get away from this engineering? Was
there nothing else for him but brick
and stone, steel and concrete, designs
and plans and undertaking and accom-
plishment in the world? Because it
was the thing that he must abandon
and put out of his mind, engineering
seemed the only thing he cared for.
There would be no engineering on that
ranch on the slopes ct the range. He
could settle the question there.
Winters was glad to see him. He and
Rodney and Meade had been the warm
est Of friends. Of course Meade could
not tell Rodney the truth on account
of his newspaper connections, but he
decided finally that he could and would
tell Winters under assurance of abSO-
lutte secrecy. For one thing the big
cattleman had bluntly refused to credit
his friends first statements; and, when
he at last heard the truth, he blamed
him roundly while he appreciated fully
the nObleness of his self-sacrifice. The
clear-headed, practical Winters put it
this way: Meade was capable of do
Ing splendid service to humanity as an
engineer and bade fair to be even
greater than his father, yet for the
sake of the fame of dead man, to
whom after all it would matter little,
he had thrown away that splendid op-
portunity!
This was new thought to Meade
and a disturbing one. Unfortunately,
as even Winters was forced to ac-
knowledge, the suggestion came too
late. The course had been entered up
on. It would be cOwardly to try to
change it now. Indeed it would have
been impossible with the disappear
ance Of the written protests and notes.
Even if Shurtliff had been willing, no
one would have believed delayed re-
traction and explanation, and Shurtlitf
would not have been willing Meade
we'll knew. Neither for that matter
was Meade himself. He was glad that
the affair had been settled and would
not change 1t even now though Win
ters' rough-and-ready presentation OF
the situation disquieted him.
Winters, who saw how greatly over
wrought and unstrung his friend was,
cOntented himself with the assertion.
He did not press the point or argue it
with him. He rested quietly confident
that matters would right themselves
some way in the long run. He treated
Meade exactly right. He left him to
his own devices. He did not force his
company upon him. Sometimes the en-
at the ranch were at his disposal-and
would ride away into the woods and
mountains with camping outfit. Some
times he would be gone for several
days, coming back white and haggard
and exhausted but victor in some hard
battle fought out alone.
One day there came to the ranch
letter to Winters from Rodney, full OF
friendly chat and pleasant remini-
scence.
"Meade has disappeared absolutely"
wrote Rodney in closing. "Even Miss
nlingworth, to whom he was reported
engaged and upon whom I have called
occasionally, says she does not know
his whereabouts. Of course you saw
in the papers his connection with the
tragedy and failure of the Internation-
al? Although his frank statement was
corroborated by that, of the older
Meade's private secretary, have never
been able to believe it, neither does
Miss Ilingworth. l know Bert, and so
does she. We can't accept even his
own testimony. We have been work
ing together to establish the truth, but
with very faint prospects of success so
far. There's some tremendous mystery
about it. I have thought that maybe
Meade might have come to you. If he
has show hiH this letter and beg him