further assured him
that he was on the right track. Collecting their horses and packing up,
they were ready for the trail about five that afternoon. The Indians
were more cordial in bidding them farewell than they had been in
welcoming them. There was a suspicious note of "good riddance" in it.

After an hour's riding they came to the first good grass, a charming
little "prairie" beside the stream that Clare had christened Meander.
Stonor dismounted, and the two women, reining up, looked at him in
surprise, for they had eaten just before leaving the Indian village, and
the horses were quite fresh, of course.

"Would you and Mary be afraid to stay here all night without me?" he
asked Clare.

"Not if it is necessary," she answered promptly. "That is, if you are
not going into danger," she added.

He laughed. "Danger! Not the slightest! I think I know where Imbrie is.
I'm going after him."

Clare's eyes widened. "I thought you had given him up for the present."

He shook his head. "I couldn't tell you back there, but I found his
canoe among the others."

"Where are you going?"

"To the Kakisa village at Swan Lake."

He saw Mary's expression change slightly, and took encouragement
therefrom. Mary, he knew, divided between her loyalty to Clare and her
allegiance to her own people, was in a difficult position. Stonor was
very sure, though, that he could depend on her to stand by Clare.

"Haven't you come far out of your way?" Clare asked.

"Not so far as you might think. We've been travelling south the last few
miles. By crossing the Meander here and heading east through the bush
I'll hit the Swan River in four miles or so. I'll be out of the bush
long before dark. I've heard there's a short-cut trail somewhere, if I
only knew where to find it."

He said this purposely within Mary's hearing. She spoke up: "Other side
this little prairie where the ford is. There the trail begins."

Stonor was not a little touched by this. "Good for you, Mary!" he said
simply. "I shan't forget it. You've saved me a struggle through the
bush."

Mary only looked inscrutable. One had to take her feelings for granted.

"When will you be back?" Clare asked.

"By land it's about ninety miles' round trip. As I must ride the same
horse the whole way, say three or four to-morrow afternoon. I won't take
Miles Aroon, he's too valuable to risk. I'll ride the bay. If anything
should delay me Tole Grampierre is due to arrive from the post