s toward the
expulsion of the offenders, but the clergyman refrained. Things were
going as he wished; it was scarcely wise to expose such a tender thing
as half-formed opinion to a severe test, and the failure that might
follow a premature attempt could hardly be recovered from. It seemed
better to wait until Grant's assailants should be arrested, and the
story of their doings elicited in court, to rouse general indignation,
and he thought this would happen. Flett had disappeared some weeks ago
and nothing had been heard of him, but Hardie believed his chiefs had
sent him out on the robbers' trail. The constable combined sound sense
with dogged pertinacity, and these were serviceable qualities.

It was a hot afternoon when George brought home his last load of wild
sloo hay, walking beside his team, while Flora curbed her reckless
horse a few yards off. She had ridden over with her father, and
finding that George had not returned, had gone on to prevent a hired
man from being sent for him. They had met each other frequently of
late, and George was sensible of an increasing pleasure in the girl's
society; though what Flora felt did not appear. Behind them the
jolting wagon strained beneath its high-piled load that diffused an
odor of peppermint; in front the shadow of a bluff lay cool upon the
sun-scorched prairie.

"I suppose you heard that Baxter lost a steer last week," she said.
"Most likely, it was killed; but, though the police searched the
reservation, there was no trace of the hide. We have had a little
quietness, but I'm not convinced that our troubles won't break out
again. Nobody seems to have heard anything of Flett."

"He's no doubt busy somewhere."

"I'm inclined to believe so, and, in a way, his silence is reassuring.
Flett can work without making a disturbance, and that is in his favor.
But what has become of Mr. West? We haven't seen much of him of late."

"He has fallen into a habit of riding over to the settlement in his
spare time, which isn't plentiful."

"Ah!" exclaimed Flora; "that agrees with some suspicions of mine.
Don't you feel a certain amount of responsibility?"

"I do," George admitted. "Still, he's rather head-strong, and he
hasn't told me why he goes to the Butte; though the girl's father gave
me a hint. I like Taunton--he's perfectly straightforward--and I'd
almost made up my mind to ask your opinion about the matter, but I was
diffident."

"I'll give it to you witho