a hat of extra-thick felt and uncommon shape which had been given
him by a man who had broken his journey for the purpose of seeing the
country when returning from Hong Kong by the Canadian Pacific route. Soon
after they left Sebastian, a young trooper of the Northwest Police
dressed in khaki uniform came trotting up in the moonlight and joined
them.

"Where are you off to, Jernyngham?" he asked, glancing at the rolled up
blanket. "Looks as if you meant to camp on the trail."

"I'll have to, most likely," said Jernyngham. "I'm leaving the farm to
Prescott for a while and heading for Nelson's Butte on the new road."

"What are you going to do there?"

"Thought I'd pick up a horse or two at one of the ranches I'll pass and
apply for a teaming job. Contractor was asking for haulage tenders; he's
having trouble among the sandhills and muskegs."

"Then you'll be taking a wad of money along?"

Jernyngham assented and the trooper looked thoughtful.

"Now," he cautioned, "there's a pretty tough crowd at Nelson, and though
we stopped any licenses being issued, we've had trouble over the
running-in of liquor. Then you have a long ride before you through a
thinly-settled country. You want to be careful about that money."

"The settlers are to be trusted."

"That's so, but we have reason to believe the rustlers are at work in the
district; seem to have been going into the liquor business, and I've
heard of horses missing. Now that the boys have stopped their branding
other people's calves in Alberta and corralled their leaders, it looks as
if the fellows were beginning the game in this part of the country."

"Thanks," said Jernyngham. "I may as well take precautions. How would you
recommend my carrying the money?"

The trooper made one or two ingenious suggestions as to the safest way of
secreting the bills, and Jernyngham, dismounting, carried them out. Soon
afterward the trooper struck off across the plain, and the others, riding
on, met a farmer who spoke to them as he passed. At length Prescott
pulled up his team at the spot where his companion must leave the trail.

"I'll do what I can with the land, Cyril, and keep an account," he said.
"You might write and let me know how you are getting on."

They shook hands and Jernyngham trotted away, while Prescott sat watching
him for a minute or two. Man and horse were sharply outlined against the
moonlit grass. Jernyngham looked very lonely as he rode out into the
wild