te with a
chewed ear. It had borne a saddle, but its owner had succeeded in
retrieving that under cover of darkness. The man's tracks were visible,
leading off towards the side trail.

"Mary, whose horse is that?" Stonor asked.

She shrugged and spread out her hands. As she had been living at Fort
Enterprise for years, and saw her own people but seldom, he had no
choice but to believe that she did not know. They returned to Clare.

Stonor said: "I shall have to leave you for awhile. There's no help for
it. I'm expecting Tole Grampierre this morning, but I can't tell for
sure how fast he will travel, and in the meantime the horses may be
getting further away every minute. If you are afraid to stay, I suppose
you can come with me--though I may have to tramp for miles."

Clare kept her chin up. "I'll stay here. If you have to go far I'd only
be a drag on you. I shan't be afraid."

The harassed policeman gave her a grateful glance. "I'll leave you my
revolver. There's no use arming Mary, because I couldn't ask her to fire
on her own people. I do not think there is the slightest danger of your
being attacked. If the Indians, seeing me go, come around, pay no
attention to them. Show no fear and you are safe. If they want Imbrie
let them take him. I'll get him later. It only means a little delay. He
cannot escape me up here."

"You must eat before you start," said Clare anxiously.

"I'll take cold food. Can't wait for hot bread."

As Stonor started off Imbrie cried mockingly: "So long, Redbreast!"
Stonor doubted very much if he would find him on his return. But there
was no help for it. One has to make the best of a bad situation.

After traversing the little meadow the stampeded horses had taken to the
trail in the direction of Fort Enterprise. Stonor took heart, hoping
that Tole might meet them and drive them back. But, reliable as Tole
was, of course he could not count on him to the hour; nor had he any
assurance that the horses would stay in the trail. He kept on.

The horses' tracks made clear reading. For several miles Stonor followed
through the bush at a dog-trot. Then he came to another little open
glade and saw that they had stopped to feed. He gained on them here. A
short distance further he suddenly came upon his bay in the trail, the
horse that had carried him to Swan Lake and back. As he had expected,
she was hopelessly foundered, a pitiable sight. He regretfully put a
bullet through her brain.

Near