chap calling himself Raven."

"Raven, eh?" exclaimed Sergeant Crisp with a new interest. "Raven, by
Jove!"

"Yes, and an Indian. Little Thunder he called him."

"Little Thunder! Jove, what a find!" exclaimed the sergeant.

"Yes," continued Cameron eagerly. "Raven is just ahead in the woods
there alone and the Indian is further back with a bunch of ponies down
in the river bottom."

"Oh, indeed! Very interesting! And so Raven is all alone in the scrub
there, waiting doubtless to give himself up," said sergeant Crisp with
fine sarcasm. "Well, we are not yet on to your game, young man, but we
will not just play up to that lead yet a while."

In vain Cameron raged and pleaded and stormed and swore, telling his
story in incoherent snatches, to the intense amusement of Sergeant Crisp
and his companion. At length Cameron desisted, swallowing his rage as
best he could.

"Now then, we shall move on. The pass is not more than an hour away. We
will put this young man in safe keeping and return for Mr. Raven and his
interesting friend." For a moment he stood looking down upon his horse.
"Poor old chap!" he said. "We have gone many a mile together on Her
Majesty's errands. If I have done my duty as faithfully as you have done
yours I need not fear my record. Take his saddle and bridle off, Burke.
We've got one of the gang. Some day we shall come up with Mr. Raven
himself."

"Yes," said Cameron with passionate bitterness. "And that might be
to-day if you had only listened to me. Why, man," he shouted with
reviving rage, "we three could take him even yet!"

"Ah!" said Sergeant Crisp, "so we could."

"You had him in your hands to-day," said Cameron, "but like a fool you
let him go. But some day, so help me God, I shall bring these murderers
to justice."

"Ah!" said Sergeant Crisp again. "Good! Very good indeed! Now, my man,
march!"

CHAPTER VI

A DAY IN THE MACLEOD BARRACKS

"What's this, Sergeant Crisp?" The Commissioner, a tall, slight, and
soldier-like man, keen-eyed and brisk of speech, rapped out his words
like a man intent on business.

"One of a whiskey gang, Sir. Dick Raven's, I suspect."

"And the charge?"

"Whiskey trading, theft, and murder."

The Commissioner's face grew grave.

"Murder? Where did you find him?"

"Kootenay trail, Sir. Got wind of him at Calgary, followed up the clue
past Morleyville, then along the Kootenay trail. A blizzard came on and
we feared we had lost them. We fell