as hardly
prepared for the bitterness that descended upon him at White Lodge after
the crime on the Dollar Sign. Men with whom he had hunted and fished,
cattlemen whom he had helped on the round-up, and storekeepers whose
trade he had swelled to considerable degree, attempted to engage in
argument tinged with acrimony. Lowell attempted to answer a few of them
at first, but saw how futile it all was, and took refuge in silence. He
waited until there was nothing more for him to do at White Lodge, and
then he went back to the agency to complete the job of forgetting an
incredible number of small personal injuries.... There was the girl at
Willis Morgan's ranch. Surely she would be outside of all these
wave-like circles of distrust and rancor. He intended to have gone to
see her within a day or two after he had taken her over to Morgan's, but
something insistent had come up at the agency, and then had come the
murder. Well, he would go over right away. He took his hat and gloves
and started for the automobile, when the telephone rang.

"It's Sheriff Tom Redmond," said Rogers. "He's coming over to see you
about going out after Fire Bear. An indictment's been found, and he's
bringing a warrant charging Fire Bear with murder."

* * * * *

Bill Talpers sat behind the letter cage that marked off Uncle Sam's
corner of his store, and paid no attention to the waiting Indian outside
who wanted a high-crowned hat, but who knew better than to ask for it.

Being postmaster had brought no end of problems to Bill. This time it
was a problem that was not displeasing, though Mr. Talpers was not quite
sure as yet how it should be followed out. The problem was contained in
a letter which Postmaster Bill held in his hand. The letter was open,
though it was not addressed to the man who had read it a dozen times and
who was still considering its import.

Lovingly, Bill once more looked at the address on the envelope. It was
in a feminine hand and read:

MR. EDWARD B. SARGENT.

The town that figured on the envelope was Quaking-Asp Grove, which was
beyond White Lodge, on the main transcontinental highway. Slowly Bill
took from the envelope a note which read:

_Dear Uncle and Benefactor_:

I have learned all. Do not come to the ranch for me, as you have
planned. Evil impends. In fact I feel that he means to do you harm.
I plead with you, do not come. It is the only way you can avert