strewn waste, fodderless, blackened, where an
afternoon halt would be a dreary sojourn, and partly for the sake of the
three good horses we had pushed so unmercifully through the early hours
of the night, we laid on the grassy river-bottom till noon. Then we
packed, placed the sullen captives in the saddle with hands lashed
stoutly, mounted our horses and recrossed the river. Once on the uplands
we struck the long trot--eight hours of daylight to make fifty miles.
And we made it.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE PIPE OF PEACE.

Twenty minutes after the sunset gun awoke the echoes along Battle Creek
we slipped quietly into Fort Walsh and drew rein before the official
quarters of the officer of the day; a stiffened, saddle-weary group,
grimy with the sooty ash of burned prairies. From the near-by barracks
troopers craned through windows, and gathered in doorways. For a moment
I thought the office was deserted, but before we had time to dismount,
the captain ranking next to Lessard appeared from within, and behind him
came a medium-sized man, gray-haired and pleasant of countenance, at
sight of whom MacRae straightened in his saddle with a stifled
exclamation and repeated the military salute.

The captain stared in frank astonishment as MacRae got stiffly out of
his saddle and helped Lyn to the ground. Then he snapped out some sharp
question, but the gray-haired one silenced him with a gesture.

"Softly, softly, Stone," he said. "Let the man explain voluntarily."

"Beg to report, sir," MacRae began evenly, "that we have captured the
men who robbed Flood, murdered those two miners, and held up the
paymaster. Also that we have recovered all the stolen money."

"What sort of cock-and-bull story is this?" Stone broke in angrily.
"Preposterous! Orderly, call----"

"Easy, easy now, Captain Stone," the older man cut in sharply. "A man
doesn't make a statement like that without some proof. By the way," he
asked abruptly, "how did you manage to elude Major Lessard and get in
here?"

MacRae pointed to one of the horses. "We didn't elude him. You'll find
what's left of the black-hearted devil under that canvas," he answered
coolly. "Lessard was at the bottom of the crookedness. We've packed him
and Paul Gregory fifty miles for you to see."

"Ha!" the old fellow seemed not so surprised as I had expected. He
glanced over the lot of us and let another long-drawn "ha" escape.

"May I ask a favor, Colonel Allen?" MacRae continued.