re toughs mostly--pretty bad 'uns,
too." Then he laughed audibly. "Makes me laugh," he went on. "I've
been tracking the fellow for quite a piece. And all the time he's your
brother. You're sure?"

Bill nodded. He was still feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm glad you saw him," Fyles went on at once. "It's put us wise. We
don't need to waste any more time. It's lucky, with a storm coming on.
Guess we'll get right back, McBain," he added, turning to his
companion.

Fyles had no more difficulty in fooling the guileless Bill than
O'Brien had.

"Going home?" Bill inquired of the officer as the latter turned to his
horse.

"Sure."

"Me, too."

Fyles leaped into the saddle. McBain, too, had mounted.

"Best hurry," said Fyles, with another quick glance at the sky. "We
get sharpish storms hereabouts in summer. You'll be drowned else. So
long."

Bill moved away.

"So long," he cried, relieved at the parting. "I haven't far to go,
but since you reckon a storm's getting busy I'll take a cut through
the bush. It'll be quicker that way."

As he thrust his way into the bush he glanced back at the two
policemen. They were both in the saddle watching him. Neither made any
attempt at the hasty departure the Inspector had suggested.

However, their attitudes gave him no uneasiness. Truth to tell, he did
not realize any significance. The one thing that did concern him and
trouble him was that he somehow felt convinced that he had committed
the very indiscretion O'Brien had warned him against.

The whole thing was very disquieting. An air of mystery seemed to have
suddenly surrounded him, and he hated mystery. Why should there be any
mystery? If there was one thing he delighted in more than another, it
was the thought that his life was all in the open. The broad daylight
could search the innermost corners of his every action. He had nothing
in the world to hide. Why then should he suddenly find himself
actively concerned with this atmosphere of mystery which had suddenly
closed about him?

But Bill had not done with the mistakes of the evening. He made
another one now--in leaving the trail.

Within five minutes of leaving the two police officers he found
himself blindly floundering his way through an inky forest. The sky
was jet black. The moon had long since switched off her light. The
last star had concealed its twinkle behind the banking clouds of the
summer storm. Now great warm splashes of rain had begun to fall.