o let her face an all-night drive in Arctic weather like that, and she
put the horses into the stable, while I lent her all my wrappings, gave
her food to take, and made her rest and eat. She said she felt she must
call and tell me how very sorry she was. Then she cried on my head, and I
let her kiss me. We should always be forgiving, Ralph, shouldn't we?"

"Tom Fletcher reformed!" I said astonished. "Oh, how foolish you women
are! I've only met one who is always sensible;" and then an idea struck
me, and I added quickly: "Are you quite sure Fletcher wasn't in the
sleigh?"

"No, Fletcher wasn't there--at least, I'd had neuralgia, so I only looked
out of the window. Minnie put up the horses."

Then I flung open a cupboard door, and what I saw confirmed a growing
suspicion. For legal reasons whisky is scarce on portions of the prairie,
but a timely dose of alcohol has saved many a man's life in the Canadian
frost, and we always kept some spirits in case of emergency.

"Then Minnie is not a teetotaler," I said. "A bottle of whisky has gone."

Leaving Aline to consider this, I ran to the stable, and found that one of
the splendid horses poor Ormond had bequeathed me was also gone. In its
place stood a sorry beast, evidently dead lame, and it did not need the
scrap of paper pinned to the manger to explain the visit.

"I am running a heavy risk, and you won't betray me," the pencil scrawl
read. "Tetley of Coulee Rouge will send back the horse and robes. It is a
last favor; we won't trouble you any more.--Minnie Fletcher."

I was troubled, however. We should need every available beast in the
spring, and Tetley was rather more than suspected of being concerned in
smuggling whisky and certain contraband commerce, including the shipping
of Chinamen over the United States border. It seemed like tempting
Providence to leave a horse of that kind in his hands, and yet Coulee
Rouge was twenty long miles away. I was also considerably puzzled as to
why Minnie should have interfered to save her husband, for it was evident
some fresh charge had been brought against him, and he was seeking safety
in the republic. Extradition existed, but except in murder cases it was
not often that a fugitive who had once crossed the boundary was ever
brought back. It seemed impossible that she had not read the reports in
the papers, and the charge Fletcher brought against her was a hard one to
forgive. Still, papers were not plentiful on the prairie,