once."

"And who are you, my young cock-of-the-walk?" snarled Ruthven.

"Denzil Carew," I replied, on the spur of the moment, "formerly of Fort
Royal."

By the sudden pallor of the man's face I knew that the shot had struck
home--that he knew all about the burning of the fort, and his companions
looked no less disconcerted and alarmed. He changed the subject
instantly.

"Lieutenant Boyd, I command you to leave," he said hoarsely. "You forget
there is such a thing as law in the Canadas."

"It is you who forget that, sir," retorted the lieutenant, "as you will
learn to your cost before many days. But to business! Produce the
prisoner."

"I admit that I have one," said Ruthven, "but my claim to him overrides
yours. He is a murderer; he has killed a Northwest Company man in cold
blood."

"Who?"

"Cuthbert Mackenzie!"

I could scarcely believe that I had heard aright. I exchanged
significant and wondering glances with my companion. Could it be
possible that Cuthbert Mackenzie had paid the last penalty for his
crimes?

"It's a good job, if it's true!" muttered Carteret.

CHAPTER XLI.

BACK FROM THE DEAD.

Lieutenant Boyd was silent for an instant, and I saw that he was a
little staggered by the bold daring of the accusation. Then, looking
Ruthven straight in the eyes, he said, in a curt and significant tone of
voice:

"I am glad to have found some one who can give information concerning
Cuthbert Mackenzie, and I will remember you when certain investigations
now pending are taken up by the Hudson Bay Company. Shall I make my
meaning clearer?"

"As you please," muttered Ruthven, with an air of forced calmness.

"It is needless; I think we understand each other," the lieutenant
continued. "As for the prisoner, and the charge you have made against
him, I won't enter into that matter at present. Did you arrest him with
a warrant?"

"No."

"Then you can't hold him. Set him at liberty, and I will guarantee that
you will find him at Fort Garry when you are ready to serve the proper
papers on him."

"It's likely I'll believe that," sneered Ruthven. "I tell you the man is
guilty. I have witnesses--proofs of the murder."

"I don't care what you have," cried the lieutenant. "I want the man at
once--I've parleyed with you far too long. If you don't produce him I'll
search the house."

Ruthven sat glowering like a tiger at bay. He scanned our re