"I am now ready to make a charge against the man, sir."

The Major sat down. "What is the charge?"

"Murder."

Imbrie must have had this possibility in mind, for his face never
changed a muscle. The woman, however, was frankly taken by surprise. She
flung up her manacled hands involuntarily; a sharp cry escaped her.

"It's a lie!"

"Whom did he murder?"

"A man unknown to me, sir."

"Where was the deed committed?"

"At or near the shack above the Great Falls."

The woman's inscrutability was gone. She watched Stonor and waited for
his evidence in an agony of apprehension.

"Did you find the body?"

"Yes, sir."

"Under what circumstances?"

"It had been thrown in the rapids, sir, in the expectation that it would
be carried over the falls. Instead, however, it lodged in a log-jam
above the falls. As I was walking along the shore I saw a foot sticking
out of the water. I brought the body ashore----"

"You brought the body ashore--out of the rapids above the falls----?"

"Yes, sir. A woman I had with me, Mary Moosa, helped me."

"Describe the victim."

"A young man, sir, that is to say, under thirty. In stature about the
same as the prisoner, and of the same complexion. What remained of his
clothes suggested a man of refinement."

"But his face?"

"It was unrecognizable, sir."

A dreadful low cry broke from the half-breed woman. Her manacled hands
went to her face, her body rocked forward from the waist.

The man rapped out a command to her in the Indian tongue to get a grip
on herself. She tried to obey, straightening up, and taking down her
hands. Her face showed a ghastly yellow pallor.

"What proof have you of murder?" asked the Major.

"There was no water in the dead man's lungs, sir, showing that he was
dead before his body entered the water. There was a bullet-hole through
his heart. I found the bullet itself lodged in the front of his spine.
It was thirty-eight calibre, a revolver bullet. This man carried a
thirty-eight revolver. I took it from him. I sent revolver and bullet
out by Tole Grampierre."

Lambert spoke up: "They are in my possession, sir."

The breed woman seemed about to collapse. Imbrie, who had given no sign
of being affected by Stonor's recital, now said with a more conciliatory
air than he had yet shown:

"If you please, sir, she is overcome by the trooper's horrible story.
Will you let her go outside for a moment to recover herself?"

"Very well," said the go