e reached the log home in the bluff at the same moment as a horseman
reined up at his door. The man in the saddle leant over, peering into
the face of the Inspector. The darkness left him uncertain.

"Deadwater post?" he demanded abruptly.

Steve had recognized the man's outfit. The brown tunic and side-arms,
the prairie hat, and the glimpse of a broad yellow stripe on the side of
the riding breeches just where the man's leather chapps terminated on
his hips. These things were all sufficient.

"Sure."

"Inspector Allenwood, sir?"

The man's abrupt tone had changed to respectful inquiry.

"I'm your man, Corporal."

The Corporal flung out of the saddle.

"Sorry I didn't rec'nize you, sir," he said saluting quickly. "It's
pretty dark. It's a letter from the Superintendent--urgent." He drew a
long, blue envelope from his saddle wallets and passed it to his
superior. "Maybe you can direct me to the Indian Agent, Major Garstaing,
sir. I got a letter for him."

Steve Allenwood glanced up from the envelope he had just received.

"Sure. Best cut through the bluff. There's a trail straight through
brings you to his house. It's mostly a mile and a half. Say, you'll need
supper. Get right along back when you've finished with him. When did you
start out?"

"Yesterday morning, sir."

The Inspector whistled.

"Fifty miles a day. You travelled some."

The Corporal patted his steaming horse's neck.

"He's pretty tough, is old Nigger, sir," he said, with quiet pride. "Mr.
McDowell wanted me to pick up a horse at Beaufort last night, but I
wouldn't have done any better. Nigger can play the game a week without a
worry. Guess I'll get on, sir, and make back after awhile. That the
barn, sir?" he went on, pointing at a second log building a few yards
from the house, as he swung himself into the saddle again. "I won't need
supper. I had that ten miles back on the trail. I off-saddled at an
Indian lodge where they lent me fire to boil my tea."

Steve nodded.

"Very well, Corporal. There's blankets here in the office when you come
back. This room, here," he added, throwing open the door. "I'll set a
lamp for you. There's feed and litter for your plug at the barn. Rub him
down good."

"Thank you, sir."

The man turned his horse and headed away for the trail through the
bluff, and Steve watched him go. Nor could he help a feeling of
admiration for the easy, debonair disregard of difficulties and hardship
which these men o