rgeant Tom replied instantly: "No, I'll do it if someone will show me
the grass pile."

Pierre slipped quietly from the counter, and said, "I know the way,
Galbraith. I will show."

Jen turned to the sitting-room, and Sergeant Tom moved to the tavern
door, followed by Pierre, who, as he passed Galbraith, touched the old
man's waistcoat pocket, and said: "Thirty drops in the coffee."

Then he passed out, singing softly:

"And he sleepeth so well, and he sleepeth so long
The fight it was hard, my dear;
And his foes were many and swift and strong
Oh, the sweet Saint Gabrielle hear!"

There was danger ahead for Sergeant Thomas Gellatly. Galbraith followed
his daughter to the sitting-room. She went to the kitchen and brought
bread, and cold venison, and prairie fowl, and stewed dried apples--the
stay and luxury of all rural Canadian homes. The coffee-pot was then
placed on the table. Then the old man said: "Better give him some of
that old cheese, Jen, hadn't you? It's in the cellar." He wanted to be
rid of her for a few moments. "S'pose I had," and Jen vanished.

Now was Galbraith's chance. He took the vial of laudanum from his
pocket, and opened the coffee-pot. It was half full. This would not
suit. Someone else--Jen--might drink the coffee also! Yet it had to be
done. Sergeant Tom should not go on. Inspector Jules and his Riders of
the Plains must not be put upon the track of Val. Twelve hours would
make all the difference. Pour out a cup of coffee?--Yes, of course, that
would do. It was poured out quickly, and then thirty drops of laudanum
were carefully counted into it. Hark, they are coming back!--Just in
time. Sergeant Tom and Pierre enter from outside, and then Jen from the
kitchen. Galbraith is pouring another cup of coffee as they enter, and
he says: "Just to be sociable I'm goin' to have a cup of coffee with
you, Sergeant Tom. How you Riders of the Plains get waited on hand and
foot!" Did some warning flash through Sergeant Tom's mind or body, some
mental shock or some physical chill? For he distinctly shivered, though
he was not cold. He seemed suddenly oppressed with a sense of danger.
But his eyes fell on Jen, and the hesitation, for which he did not then
try to account, passed. Jen, clear-faced and true, invited him to sit
and eat, and he, starting half-abstractedly, responded to her "Draw
nigh, Sergeant Tom," and sat down. Commonplace as the words were, they
thrilled him, for