not reply. The spell of the dance had not yet
entirely gone from him.

"Are you afraid to ask me if there might be another?" she inquired,
with a coy glance and just a little petulance in her voice.

"Can you--can you spare another?"

"Of course, I can!"

"Another waltz?" he queried eagerly.

"The dance fourth from now is a waltz," she answered.

"May I have it?"

"Yes!"

Brenchfield--surly watch-dog that he was--was at their heels again.
This time, the refreshment buffet was his plea.

Phil abandoned his partner to him with good grace, for even Graham
Brenchfield could not quench his good spirits over the great enjoyment
he still had in store;--another waltz with Eileen Pederstone.

In the hallway, he encountered Jim, who twitted him for a moment for
his great courage, but Phil could see that Jim had something on his
mind that had not been there when he had left him. They went to the
outside door and stood together in the cool, night air.

"Gee Phil!--but this is a grand night for these feed sneaks to pull
off something big," he said, in that mixture of Scotticisms and
Western Canadian slang that he often indulged in.

"What makes you think of that?"

"Look at the sky, man!--black as ink and not a moon to be seen.
Everybody is at the dance; Chief Palmer and Howden are here; the
Mayor, the Aldermen, Royce Pederstone, Ben Todd; why, man,--the town
outside there is empty.

"Did you notice anything peculiar in the gathering in there, Phil?"

"No! How do you mean?"

"Not a mother's son of that Redman's bunch is present."

"But they're not much of a dancing crowd."

"You bet they are!--when it suits them. You never saw a crowd of
cowpunchers that weren't.

"I have the keys to the O.K. Supply Company's Warehouse on the tracks.
Are you game for a nose around, just to see if there's anything
doing?"

"What's the good of worrying over a thing like that to-night, Jim?
Let's forget it and have a good time."

Jim laughed. "Well,--I'm going anyway. Say, Phil! I've not only
got the keys to the O. K. Warehouse, but I have keys that fit
Brenchfield's and the Pioneer Traders' as well."

"Better watch you don't get pinched yourself," Phil cautioned.

"De'il the fear o' it, Phil! But I'm going to get one over that bunch
if it is only to satisfy my own Scotch inquisitiveness. At the same
time, I would like to help out Morrison of the O.K. Company. He's a
good old scout, and this thieving is gradually sucking