Winston of the Prairie, by Harold 
Bindloss, 
 
The Project Gutenberg eBook, Winston of the Prairie, by Harold 
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 
 
Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which 
includes the original illustrations. See 14763-h.htm or 14763-h.zip: 
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(http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/4/7/6/14763/14763-h.zip) 
 
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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