ity of the saloon, farther down the trail. They, too, had seen
the newcomer, and they, too, were consumed with interest, though it
was based on quite a different point of view from that of Stanley
Fyles and Sergeant McBain.

To them a despatch rider meant important news, and probable action on
the part of the authorities. Important action meant, to their minds,
something detrimental to the shady side of their village life. Every
man was searching his brain for an explanation, a reason for the man's
coming, and every woman, sparing herself mental effort, was asking
pointed questions of those who should think for her.

The man rode into the village at full gallop, and, seeing the two
police horses outside the mail office, came straight on toward them.

He flung out of the saddle and saluted the inspector. Then he began
fumbling in an inner pocket. Fyles understood his intention and
sharply warned him.

"Not here. Now, in one word. Is it news from down East?"

The man nodded.

"Yes, sir. I believe so."

"You believe so?"

"Yes, sir. Mr. Jason told me I'd to make here to-day--mid-day. Said
you were waiting for this letter to act. He also said I was to avoid
speaking to any one in the place till I'd delivered the despatch into
your hands. He also said I was to remain here under your orders."

"Damnation! And we've had letters through the mail every day."

"Beg pardon, sir----"

McBain made a sign for silence, and the man broke off. But Fyles bade
him go on.

"Mr. Jason warned me to be very careful, as it was a despatch he could
not trust to the mail."

Fyles gave a short laugh.

"That'll do. Now, get mounted, and ride back the way you came into the
valley. When you get out of it keep along the edge of it westwards.
You'll come to our camp five miles out. It's in a bluff. It's a shack
on an abandoned farm. I can't direct you better, except it's just
under the shoulder in the valley, and is approached by a cattle track.
You'll have to ride around till you locate it. McBain will be coming
back soon. Maybe he'll pick you up. Avoid questions, and still
more--answers. Keep the letter till McBain gets in."

"Very good, sir."

The man remounted and rode away. His coming had been so sudden, his
stay so brief, and his departure so rapid, that Fyles had achieved
something of his purpose in repairing any damage Superintendent Jason
had done to his plans in acting contrary to his subordinate's wishes.

The sharp-ey