f his own force displayed in the execution of their
work. In his utter unself-consciousness he was quite unaware that
wherever the police were known his own name was a household word for
these very things which he admired in another.

He passed into his office and lit the lamp. Then he seated himself at
the simple desk where his official reports were made out. It was a
plain, whitewood table, and his office chair was of the hard Windsor
type.

He tore open his letter and glanced at its contents. It was from his own
immediate superior, Superintendent McDowell, and dated at Fort Reindeer.
It was quite brief and unilluminating. It was a simple official order to
place himself entirely at the disposal of Major Hervey Garstaing, the
Indian Agent of the Allowa Indian Reserve--who was receiving full
instructions from the Indian Commissioner at Ottawa--on a matter which
came under his department.

He read the letter through twice. He was about to read it for a third
time, but laid it aside. Instead he rose from the table and moved
towards the door as the wagon from Deadwater drew up outside.

CHAPTER II

THE PASSING OF A DREAM

Steve and his wife were in the parlour of their little home. It was the
home which Steve had had built to replace his bachelor shanty, and which
together they had watched grow, and over the furnishing of which they
had spent hours of profound thought and happy discussions.

The office was entirely separate, that is, it had its own entrance door
and no communication with the rest. The private quarters consisted of
three rooms. The parlour, a bedroom for Steve and Nita, and, leading out
of the latter, a small apartment sacred to the tiny atom of humanity
which they had christened Coqueline, and whom the man, from the moment
his eyes had been permitted to gaze upon her, some fifteen months
earlier, regarded as the most perfect, wonderful, priceless treasure in
the world. Beyond this, a simple lean-to kitchen provided all they
needed for their creature comfort.

It was all characteristic of the Northern world. The walls were of
lateral logs, and the roof was of a similar material, while the entire
interior was lined with red pine match-boarding. It was strong, and
square, and proof against the fiercest storm that ever blew off the
Arctic ice, which was all sufficient in a country where endurance was
man's chief concern.

Nita was seated in the rocking-chair which Steve had set ready for her